Cute in Vain
by Failure Turtle
Summary: Everyone wanted her to return, but she wouldn't have any of that. Especially not after what Shane did to her. Eventual TrishxRandy
1. Visitation Rights

**A/N: This was a request.**

**I decided to post it now instead of Tuesday night since I will be working at that time at Miller Park, and I don't think I'm really going to have any other updates ready to be posted.**

"TRISH!" Mickie squealed, seeing one of her good friends and heroes standing in the hallway. She ran over to her and nearly knocked her over in a huge hug. "I didn't know you were coming tonight! You didn't tell me. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!"

"Whoa, Mickie," Trish giggled, returning the hug. "It was kind of a last minute thing. I really only found out about an hour before hand. Vince let me show up tonight to promote my new yoga studio. Trust me; if I knew beforehand, you would have been the first person I'd have called."

"Does this mean you're coming back?" Mickie asked anxiously. "I'm not going to lie. You were my favorite opponent ever. Do you have any idea what it's like to wrestle your _hero_? Please come back, Trish. Did you hear the fan's reaction when they saw you on screen? You HAVE to come back for the sake of the women's division."

"Mickie, this is a one time thing. You know I loved my time here and I love the business, but it's time for me to move on. No one wants to see me anymore. I'm old news. It's time for _other_," Trish said, with a nod towards Mickie, "female wrestlers to get recognition for once. I'm not the best there was, nor am I the best there ever will be. They'll forget about me soon enough. Hell, I'm surprised they even remembered me now."

"Don't be stupid, Trish. Everyone loves you! I just wish that—"

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Shawn Michaels said sarcastically and jokingly, approaching Trish and putting his arm around her. "How have you been, doll face?"

"It's great to see you too, Shawn," Trish laughed, hugging the older man. "I've been great. My yoga studio is really coming along nicely. But…I've been watching, Shawn, and I'm worried. I don't know if I can say the same positive things about you. Is your knee _really_ injured? It's hard to tell with you…"

"Yeah, it's sore and all. It ain't what it used to be, let me tell you. But I'll be fine. I always have been and always will be. George Washington ain't chopping down this cherry tree just yet," Shawn explained, lightly rubbing the knee that was in question. He then turned to Trevor Murdoch who had been standing there in awe of Trish since their promo had ended. "Trevor, my boy! You've got a nice set of pipes on you. It's a shame about what creative is doing for you now, breaking you and Lance Cade up and all. You've got talent that I don't want to see go to waste. I'm going to put a little word in with creative, if you don't mind. We don't need another lame Santino Marella gimmick running around, if you catch my drift."

"Thank you, Mr. Michaels, I really—"

"Shawn, please," Shawn said, informing Trevor to use his first name when addressing him. "Mr. Michaels makes me feel old."

"Yes, sir. I will do my best," Trevor said before leaving, nodding to Trish and Mickie on his way out.

"He's such a nice guy," Mickie sighed.

"What, do you like him or something? Maybe I should put in a good word with _you_ about him," Shawn joked.

"Yeah, and you two were almost an item in the storylines…" Trish added.

"Um, hi? I'm engaged to Kenny," Mickie said, her eyes widening.

"I know, Mickie, we're only kidding," Trish said, patting Mickie on the shoulder. "Randy! John! Over here!" Trish called to the other side of the hallway, spotting Randy Orton and John Cena. The two friends walked over to the other three.

"Whoa, Stratus, what are you doing here?" John asked, hugging his former coworker.

"Advertising for my yoga studio," Trish said, deciding to be honest about it.

"Wow, way to use your WWE fame to make a few bucks," Randy said as a joke, taking his turn in hugging Trish.

"Thanks, Randy, it's great to see you, too," Trish said, rolling her eyes.

"Please, no canoodling in the hallways. This is a professional business," a snooty voice demanded from behind the group. All five of them turned around and came face to face with Shane McMahon. "You know, I could have you all suspend—Trish! My father didn't tell me you were coming tonight."

"Oh, hi, Shane," Trish muttered, stepping closer to Shawn.

"Is there a reason that you decided to bestow your beauty upon us tonight?"

"Um, Shane? I have to go home now…I told my husband that I wouldn't be gone for long. We have some last minute touch ups to do on the yoga studio…" Trish explained before sneaking out from behind the group and heading out of the building.

"Awkward…" Shane said. "Don't you all have somewhere to be?"

The four remaining Superstars looked at one another and shrugged. They all followed Trish's path away from Shane and decided to try and catch up to her before she left.

"Father needs to know about this…" Shane mused to himself before heading to his father's office.

**A/N: And welcome to story number sixty! Yeah, it would me like wayyy more, but I deleted ones that I knew I would never finish…**


	2. Shane O'Mac'Asshole

**A/N: Uh…I really should be sleeping. I'm posting this now because I don't think I'll be able to come home tonight in between my jobs, so yeah…but I'm bringing along the last chapters of "The Billion Dollar Princess Diaries," "Canadian Blondes Have More Fun," "Wrestling Royalty," and "The Straight Edge of the Rainbow" to see if I can work on them in my sweet new Little Mermaid notebook. It's a Tuesday night, so NO ONE will be at Miller Park or the casino. Word.**

Shane McMahon knocked on the door of his father's office.

"Come in," the older man grumbled from inside his office.

Shane carefully opened the door, poking his head inside. He knew that his father was a busy man and often forgot that he could only handle one issue at a time. More often than not, Vince would be in the middle of an important meeting or conference call and still allow someone to come in and distract him, much to the chagrin of whomever he was dealing with first.

Vince appeared to be ready and available to talk to his son. His computer monitor was turned off, he was not on the phone, nor was he working on any paperwork. In fact, he was leaning back in his plush desk chair with his feet up on the desk, enjoying a good book. Vince looked up to see his son as his guest. He quickly placed his bookmark in between the pages that he left off on and removed his feet from the desk surface. He removed his reading spectacles and stood up to walk over to his son. "Shane, my boy, what can I do for you today?"

"Hey, dad. Um…are you aware that Trish Stratus is in the building tonight?" Shane asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Who do you think invited her, son?" Vince chuckled, greeting his son with a gentle hug.

"Why didn't you tell me she was going to be here?" Shane wondered.

"Why are you so concerned with the matters of Trish Stratus? I invited her here since we were in the area. She left the company on good terms. It's the least I can do for her after everything she's done for us," Vince explained.

"I, um…" Shane stammered, not knowing how to answer his father's question. "Well, thank you, dad. I think I have to find Stephanie and fire some people."

"Good work, son. You're really learning from me," Vince smiled, even though he was completely joking. He knew he only fired people that _needed_ to be let go, and the fans always took it the wrong way. In reality, Vince wasn't a bad guy. He was actually quite nice and respectful. He just enjoyed playing a son of a bitch on television.

"Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate that," Shane said sarcastically through his teeth, but his father didn't notice. He already picked his novel back up and was continuing to read it where he left off, resuming to lean back with his feet on the desk.

* * *

"Trish! Wait up!" Mickie called, leading the group jogging down the hallway to catch up with Trish.

Trish was still a bit ahead of them, but she was able to hear Mickie yelling to her. She turned around but still walked backwards, wanting to get out of the building as soon as possible. "Mickie, Shawn, John, Randy, it was great seeing you all, but I really need to go…"

"It was Shane, wasn't it?" Shawn asked out of nowhere.

Trish stopped in her tracks.

"I, um…Look, Shane has nothing to do with this. I assure you," Trish promised, still walking backwards. "I really do need to leave. I love you all and everything, but I'm done with wrestling. I don't think I can ever come back anymore, not even to visit. I really hate to leave you all like this, but I'm sure I'll see you again someday…" Trish finished, and turned around to leave. Instead of just walking, she actually ran in her heels out of the building to escape her past.

"I am going to _kill_ Shane McMahon," Shawn mumbled, much to the shock of the younger wrestlers around him. Shawn cracked his knuckles and headed in the other direction, and Mickie started to cry.

"Mickie, don't cry," John said, pulling her into a hug. "Trish will get over this. She'll be back, don't worry."

Shawn heard what John had said and then violently turned around. "Isn't anybody going to go after her?"

Randy looked back and forth between Shawn, John, and Mickie. Shawn looked like he had to be somewhere, or at least was going somewhere, and John looked too preoccupied with calming Mickie down.

Randy shrugged and said, "I'm your man."

Randy headed towards the parking lot, racking his brain for what he would say to Trish. He saw the blonde woman fumbling with her keys next to her car. "Come on, fucker, open the fuck up…" she was saying to herself, clearly still in distress.

"Trish, can I talk to you for a moment?"

**A/N: I'm trying to decide if I should tell you if Vince is going to be good or bad in this story. But how about you guys guess?**

**Oh, Mickie and John are NOT getting together. If you think that, I suggest you go and reread the first chapter...**

**Next chapter: Randy and Trish talk, and Shawn confronts a certain someone…**


	3. Randy Stops Car Crashes

**A/N: I wasn't really looking for a bunch of freaking biographies on Vince McMahon. I know how the dude is in real life. Ending rant now. I'm sorry, you must excuse my tiredness right now.**

**Oh, there is no way in HELL that Randy and Trish are getting together any time soon. I want this to be a looooong story, if you don't mind (Is that alright with you?). **

**And yes, Trish **_**is**_** married in this story. Stories develop over time, and something will eventually happen with that.**

Trish sighed to herself and wiped a stray tear from her left eye. She turned around but kept her eyes to the cement ground, refusing to let them meet Randy's blue ones. Almost whispering, she asked, "What do you want, Randy?"

"I want to know what happened with you back there. What did Shane do to you, Trish?" Randy asked with deep curiosity.

"Randy, I—"

* * *

"Shane!" Shawn yelled from down the hallway. He could see the suit clad figure of Shane McMahon walking at a fast pace just ahead of him, his limbs flailing so much that he was nearly imitating his father's power walk. "Shane, you listen to me when I'm talking to you, boy!"

Shane stopped dead in his tracks. Clenching his jaw and his fists, he turned around to face the veteran wrestler. "Don't call me a boy, Shawn," he growled.

"You're damn lucky I don't make you call me Mister fucking Michaels," Shawn retorted. He stepped closer to the younger man. "What is this bullshit that's going on between you and Trish?"

Shane took a step back and sneered at Shawn with a grin that would make Draco Malfoy jealous.

* * *

"I really need to be leaving," Trish said, another salty tear rolling down her eye and taking some mascara along with it. She continued messing with her keys. Her hands were shaking, and she couldn't get the key in the keyhole to unlock the driver's side door.

"Trish," Randy said, gently stopping her from possibly scratching the side of her car and taking the keys from her hand. "If you really wanted to get out of here in a hurry, you would have easily hit," he pressed the "unlock" button on her keychain remote, "the unlock button on your keychain and drove off. But you didn't do that, so there's clearly a reason you want to stay."

"No, Randy, I'm just flustered," Trish assured him. I really need to get out of here…"

"I'm not stopping you from running away from your problems, Trish. But I am here in case you need someone to run to."

"Thanks, Randy," Trish smiled through her tears.

"Hey, what are friends for?" he said, hugging her. "Now stop crying. We don't need a dead Stratus on the highway."

"See you later, Randy," Trish said before getting in her car and driving off.

Randy stayed in the parking lot until Trish's car was out of sight. His hand rubbed along the back of his head and he took a deep breath. Finally letting go of his thoughts, he reentered the building.

* * *

"Do I need to remind you who my father is?" Shane smirked, showing all of his teeth like a rabid dog about to bite something…or rather someone.

"I don't give a damn who you're daddy is. Have you forgotten that he and I are on excellent terms? How about you show me some damn respect?" Shawn snapped back.

"I'm always glad to show some respect to my _elders_," Shane winked, making fun of Shawn's age.

"Oh, that's rich coming from you, Shane. Why don't you take a look in the mirror? You have more grey hair than I do, just so you know. Now do I need to kick your ass myself since you're too old to be bent over your father's knee and given a whipping?"

"A whipping? Shawn, this isn't the eighteen hundreds anymore like when you were my age. We can settle this over a cup of coffee or a game of cards or—"

"_We_," Shawn said, pointing first at Shane and then at himself, "have nothing to settle. The problem is whatever you did to Trish. She is a woman whom I respect and love very much and I'll be damned if scum like you gets away with anything that has harmed her."

"I didn't do anything, Shawn. You can count on that," Shane smiled, his grin growing even wider, if that was possible.

"Shawn, is that you?" a deep voice asked from behind Shawn.

Turning around, Shawn confirmed what the mysterious voice was asking.

The voice belonged to Vince McMahon. "Can I see you in my office for a moment?"


	4. One More Match

**A/N: I'm probably never posting this story at that retarded time ever again. I think I put it up at like eight in the morning. Wow, that was dumb of me. I apologize for that. Vince's intentions (as in being good or bad) should be revealed somewhat in this chapter.**

"Mr. McMahon," Shawn started, thinking he was in some serious trouble with his boss for messing with his son, "is there a problem with me talking to Shane?"

"Problem? First of all, there's no problem. And second, I think we've known each other long enough, have been friends long enough, and respect each other enough to the point where you can call me Vince, whether we are in a professional atmosphere or not," Vince explained, walking with Shawn to his office. "What was up with Shane, anyways?"

"Oh, er…" Shawn paused, not knowing if he should continue or not. Figuring that if he didn't get out his side of the story, Shane would twist it, Shawn explained what was going on. "There was a bit of an altercation with Shane and Trish. I think he upset her in some way, but I'm not sure how he did that."

"Hm, maybe it was just Shane being Shane. Somehow, he seems to just bother people. If they have a past, I really am not sure what that is. It is not my job to peer into the lives of my employees, nonetheless my own son. But pushing all of that aside, I have a favor to ask of you," Vince said.

"And that is?" Shane asked.

"Well, ironically enough, it involves Trish Stratus herself."

* * *

As Trish pulled onto the freeway, she turned down the radio that she had on full blast. She thought that maybe by blasting music at a volume that would make most people's ears bleed, she could drown out the thoughts of Shawn, Mickie, Randy, John…and Shane.

Mostly the thoughts were about Shane.

However, not even the loudest guitars could keep the thoughts away.

_Maybe if I just went out with him like he asked, none of this would have happened_, she thought to herself as she changed lanes. _Maybe if I just went out with him, I wouldn't have retired. I'd still be wrestling. Maybe I'd have my eight or ninth Women's Championship reign by now. I just couldn't have said 'yes,' could I?_

* * *

"What do you mean, it involves Trish?" Shawn wondered, taking off his cowboy hat and scratching at his receding hairline.

"Well, with all due respect to _some_ of our Divas…" Vince started, but trailed off.

"Oh, I think I know where this is going," Shawn said.

"I still have to ask…for business reasons," Vince said, opening his desk drawer and pulling out a notepad. "On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the Women's Division with Trish Stratus and Lita involved just before they retired?"

"Um…" Shawn stuttered. "I would say about a seven."

"Alright…How about just after they retired?"

"You're not going to tell the girls about this, are you?" Shawn asked, not wanting to offend his friends, such as Mickie James and Melina.

"A select few have already answered these questions for me," Vince cleared up. "So, give me a number."

"Three, and I'm being generous."

"Really? Mickie James gave it a rating of one, and she's our most talented wrestler," Vince said, his jaw dropping slightly.

"Wow," Shawn said in disbelief.

"Anyways, moving on…" Vince put the notepad back down and put his elbows on his desk, clasping his hands together and resting his chin on top of his knuckles. "The favor that I'm asking of you is _huge_. It's not going to be easily accomplished, but I have faith in you, Shawn. We need either Trish or Lita back _desperately_. I feel that the fans would appreciate Lita more now than they did just before her retirement, but…She's not the one we should be going after. She's already expressed that she didn't want to come back. I feel horrible for the way we treated her and portrayed her character to the point where she doesn't feel at home here any longer. Besides, she's been getting a little out of shape, and she's touring with her band. Now, Trish on the other hand…We _need_ her. She's in better shape than she was while she was here. The fans still love her, and I think she might, and just _might_ come back to us. Shawn, I am asking you to convince Trish to come back and sing another contract with us."

Shawn and Vince sat in silence as Shawn processed all of this information in his head. "Vince, I don't think she wants to come back."

"Can you please just do this for me Shawn?"

"I'll try," Shawn sighed, knowing that any attempts would be futile.

"Do or do not do, Shawn. There is no try," Vince said.

Shawn let out a heavy sigh and pulled his keys out of his pocket. "May I bring someone along with me?"

"By all means do so. Anything that you feel may help you in this quest, feel free to do," Vince said, nodding at his good friend.

"Thank you, Vince," Shawn said, shaking Vince's hand and leaving the office. "Now where the hell did Orton go?"

* * *

"Did you make any progress with Trish?" Shawn asked as he drove his truck over to Trish's house with Randy sitting in the front seat.

"Hardly. Are you sure I'm the right man for the job?" Randy asked.

"You said you were the man earlier, Orton. I don't trust Cena with this, and I think Mickie might scare the poor girl," Shawn said, pulling onto the exit ramp. "Did you at least find out what Shane did to her?"

"No, I didn't," Randy sighed sadly. "Whatever it was, it must have been bad."

"Shane and bad are pretty much synonymous with each other," Shawn said.

"True that."

* * *

"Randy? Shawn? What are you doing here?" Trish asked as she opened the door.

The two men could tell that she had been crying.

"Are you alright, Trish?" Shawn asked.

"Come in. If you're here for what I think you're here for, then we have a lot to talk about."

**A/N: Eh, not really a cliffhanger, but whatever.**

**HAPPY FRIDAY TO ME! Okay, so it's not the traditional Friday, but it's my Friday of my work schedule. I'm off on Monday and Tuesday nights, which translates into Sunday and Monday nights because I work grave shift. Yay for weekends!**

**Review.**


	5. Past Hauntings

**A/N: I'm losing my readers and reviewers fast on this. Help.**

Trish led Randy and Shawn into her home and to the dining room. Trish sat on one side of the table and Randy and Shawn sat next to each other on the other side of the table across from her. The table was set with ornate china for decoration. The room's colors were white and gold, and the flatware was purchased to match. It was obviously no secret that Trish and her husband lived a life of luxury after she had retired.

"So, are you here to ask me to come back? That _is_ why you're here, right?" Trish asked, slowly looking up from the white plate on the table in front of her and right into Shawn's eyes.

"Erm, well…that's a part of it, I suppose," Shawn slowly said.

"Uh, Trish?" Randy said.

"Yeah?"

"Is your husband home?" Randy asked.

"No, Ron's visiting his parents overnight," Trish answered.

"I thought the two of you had to go and work on the yoga studio tonight," Shawn said, remembering what Trish had said to everyone when she left so abruptly.

"Well, I really do have to work on it," Trish said, now starting to avoid the eyes of Shawn Michaels and Randy Orton.

"Trish, cut the crap," Shawn said in an almost mean tone.

Trish jumped at the aggression in Shawn's voice. She looked at him with wide eyes as they started to water. "Shawn, what are you talking about?"

"Look, that's fine if you're not going to tell us about Shane. That's your business and not ours. But I'd like you to know that you're only hurting yourself by not telling us. We're your friends, Trish. We don't want to see anything bad happen to you."

Trish's home phone started ringing. She looked over to the other room where the phone was held, and then back to Shawn and Randy. "Go ahead," Randy said.

Trish walked over to the living room. They had an older phone in that room, so it did not have caller ID. "Hello?" she answered, assuming in her mind that it was her husband.

"Hello, Trish. Remember me?" a cold, calculating voice said from the other line.

* * *

_**Flashback**_

"_Come on, Trish, just come out on a date with me," Shane pleaded with the Canadian blonde Diva._

"_Um, no thanks, Shane. I really just see you as a friend," Trish answered._

"_Aw, that hurts, Trish. You don't want to make me sad, do you?"_

"_I'm sorry, Shane," Trish laughed, thinking Shane was just joking around._

"_Trish, I'm going to ask you one more time…"_

* * *

Trish just stood there, frozen. She tried to speak, but inaudible sounds were coming out of her mouth. She was trying to mentally prepare herself to slam the phone down and continue talking to Shawn and Randy, but she couldn't move.

"Don't hang up on me, Trish," Shane seethed. "I may just have to come over there and take you out on another date, if you remember what I'm talking about. Didn't we have such a good time together?"

Trish slowly put the phone back down on the receiver, hanging up on Shane. She shuffled her feet and moved herself back to the dining room, sitting down as if nothing had happened.

"Are you alright?" Randy asked, reaching across the table and putting his hand on Trish's forearm.

"I'm fine," Trish assured Randy, patting his hand with her own. "So, why are you two here?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound as steady as possible.

"Well, we were going to ask you to come back," Shawn said, casually leaving out that Vince was the one that asked him to pull this off.

"Shawn, I'm just not prepared to come back ever again," Trish said.

"It's because of Shane, isn't it?" Randy said, arching his eyebrow at her.

"No, it's not because of Shane!" Trish yelled, standing up.

"What did Shane do to you, Trish?" Shawn asked, standing up as well, along with Randy.

"I…he…"

"Come on, Trish! We care about you!" Randy said.

"Does your husband know?" Shawn asked.

Trish solemnly shook her head to give them a negative response.

"Trish, you have to tell _someone_. You can't just bottle it all up. Doing that makes people go crazy, and you're better than that," Randy said.

"Fine! He raped me!"


	6. Lies are a Girl's Best Friend

**A/N: I'm still really depressed about last night's technical glitches. Thank you to those who went back and reviewed after everything went back to normal. I really didn't think anyone would.**

**But I think I already ruined the story. This chapter will fix it (I hope).**

"HE WHAT?!" Shawn bellowed, nearly slamming his fists onto the table but prevented himself from doing so and possibly breaking Trish's table decorations.

"Is that what you wanted to hear, Shawn? Did you want to hear that Shane did something _that _horrible to me just so you could find an excuse to kick his ass?" Trish asked, starting to shake.

"What are you saying, Trish?" Randy asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"Shane didn't do anything to me, Randy! I only said that because you guys wouldn't leave me alone," Trish said, wiping her eyes and starting to calm down.

"Do you mean to tell me that you _lied_ to us? You _lied_ about something as serious as that?" Shawn asked, starting to get angry with the Canadian woman.

"Shawn, it was the only way to get you to drop the situation," Trish sighed, now officially calmed down. "Now, are you going to tell us who sent you here?"

"Vince did, but it's a moot point," Shawn grimaced, honestly pissed off.

"And why is that?" Trish snapped back, furious with Shawn's attitude.

"Well, first of all, you already told us that you didn't want to come back ever again. And second of all, I don't want a lying bitch like you in the business I worked so hard to be successful in," Shawn growled.

"Shawn!" Randy yelled. "Don't talk to her like that!"

"Why not? She just scared both of us to holy hell and back. Why not return the favor?" Shawn said, turning to Randy and reducing Trish to tears once again.

"Shawn, that's totally unnecessary…Can't you see she's been through a rough time?" Randy said to Shawn, taking Trish in his arms and holding her tightly as she cried into his chest.

"RANDY, SHE LIED TO US! I don't like liars, and liars _don't_ make friends. Especially when they lie about BEING RAPED!" Shawn yelled, taking off his cowboy hat and tossing it to the ground.

If Trish could cry even harder, she did. Randy's grip on her only tightened, but was gentle and caring at the same time.

"Shawn," Trish sobbed, still burying her face in Randy's chest, "I lied for a reason."

"Yeah, that's what they all say. Liars always lie for a reason, right? Wrong. What's so wrong about telling the truth? What was your reason, Trish?"

"I'm…I'm not ready to say what my reason was…" Trish trailed off, finally lifting her head up and turning her head to Shawn.

"Trish, I thought we were friends," Shawn said. "You can tell me _anything_, and you know that. Look, I'm sorry I blew up at you, but come on! You don't lie about that!"

"Can we change the subject, please?" Randy interjected, getting uncomfortable with the situation.

"Thank you, Randy," Trish sighed, freeing herself from Randy's hold. "I'm just not willing, ready, and able to come back. I have other things I want to do, more options to pursue. I want to try my hand at running a business. If I was going to come back, I wouldn't want to do it half assed. I'd want to give it my all, and I don't even think I can give it half of what I have right now."

"Fair enough, Trish," Shawn scoffed.

"Maybe in like two years I could think about coming back…I don't know. Actually, no. I'm never going back," Trish said, finalizing her decision. "Now if you excuse me, I'd like to catch some fresh air."

"We should be going, anyways," Shawn said. "We'll see you later."

Each man gave Trish a hug, Randy giving her a longer one than Shawn did. Trish gave each man one last saddened look before walking over to the sliding door in the kitchen and exiting the house and onto the backyard deck. She walked over to the railing and rested her elbows on top of the wood, taking a deep breath of the spring evening air in. She shivered a bit because it was still cold during the early spring in Canada. Looking up at the sky, she contemplated everything she had said, and thought about her lie that she told straight to Shawn Michaels's face.

Inside the dining room, Randy and Shawn were preparing to leave. Shawn picked his hat up from the ground and placed it back on his head. "I can't believe this," he mumbled.

"Um, Shawn? Could you wait for me in the car? I want to talk to Trish alone," Randy said.

"Why? She said all she has to say to us."

"No, she doesn't. She lied to us, Shawn."

"No shit, Randy. She _told_ us she lied about Shane raping her."

"No, she lied about lying. I can tell. Shawn, he really _did_ rape her."

**A/N: Yes, I fixed it. Yay.**


	7. Raping the Table

**A/N: I was so right on the whole losing readers thing. Damn. And to think, I really liked this story, too. Fuck.**

"Randy, this is ridiculous," Shawn sighed, pulling himself together. "You kids these days…You just don't know when to quit, do you? I'll be waiting in the car," Shawn grumbled in disgust, leaving Trish's fine home.

Randy squinted his eyes in thought once he was alone. Should he go and confront Trish? What if she was lying about Shane raping her? Would that totally change his perspective on the legendary women's wrestler?

But what if she wasn't lying? What if Shane really _did_ rape her?

How would Randy be able to face him at work every week?

Would Vince already know?

Would Vince even do anything about it?

Randy thought of Vince as the wild card in this situation. On one hand, everyone thought he was an evil son of a bitch. Would Vince be so heartless in a situation such as this? On the other hand, Randy knew that Vince was actually a nice guy. Maybe he'd sympathize with Trish's possibly situation.

But the real question was about Shane.

If Shane did rape Trish, what action would Vince take? Would he fire him?

Or would he simply let him carry on as if nothing was wrong?

Randy hoped that Vince would be reasonable in this situation.

Even more so, he just hoped that his instincts about Shane were wrong.

Randy walked as quietly as he could to the sliding glass door that Trish had previously exited from. He placed his masculine hand on the handle and prepared to open the door to join Trish. Looking up, he noticed how sad, broken, and beautiful Trish looked. Her golden hair was flowing in the slight breeze. She was shivering from the cold.

She almost looked at peace.

Randy took a deep breath and slid the door open. Trish jumped from the unexpected noise. "Randy, I—"

"Let's play a game, Trish," Randy sighed, walking over to Trish and joining her in leaning on the deck railing.

"Now isn't the time for games, Randy," Trish whispered. The two looked out into the golden horizon. Even though the weather was beautiful, neither person could enjoy it. It was like being in a snowstorm and looking at a picture of a warm beach. Sure, it looks beautiful, but in the end, it doesn't really matter.

"No, we're going to play 'Tell the Truth,' Trish," Randy said. "Did Shane really rape you?"

"I told you that he didn't, Randy," Trish said, her speaking getting more and more hurried because she was trying to avoid the situation.

"But you also told me that he did. Trish, you were always a bad liar. Clearly, something about Shane is bothering you, and I intend to find out what it is," Randy said, taking a strong arm and putting it around Trish, rubbing her shoulder.

"I don't want to talk about this," Trish said, trying to pull away from Randy, but he was too strong.

"You have to, Trish. If you don't…It's only going to hurt you even more."

"Fine. He…Shane…Yeah, he did rape me, Randy," Trish stammered, crying for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

"That son of a bitch! I am going to _kill_ him!" Randy growled, removing his arm from Trish and storming to the other side of the deck. "Trish, how could you let him do that to you? You're a strong woman. You could have at least kicked his ass."

"Randy, it doesn't happen like that. Trust me, if you were in my situation…When something like that happens, your mind is on overdrive where you can't move at all. Even if I wanted to, Shane is stronger than I am. I couldn't do anything about it! Randy, he asked me out countless times, but I kept denying him. That's why he did it, and—"

"Trish! That makes it even worse! A man who takes advantage of a woman like that is the scum of the fucking earth! He could go to jail for that!"

"I don't want him to go to jail," Trish pleaded. "I don't want someone to go to jail because of me, Randy."

"TRISH! HE RAPED YOU! Can you not get it through your head that it's pretty much the worst thing a man can do to a woman besides killing her?!"

"Randy…He did kill me. He killed my soul. Why do you think I retired?" Trish asked, arching her eyebrow at the Legend Killer.

"No…" Randy gasped.

Trish could only nod.

"Wait…Does your husband know?"

Trish looked Randy dead in the eyes. With more tears spilling out, she shook her head.

"Trish, he needs to know."

"No. I can't tell him."


	8. Welcome Home

**A/N: I'm almost considering putting this on hiatus. I was going over the reviews and one of them…yeah. I mean, I really like this story, but if people are going to be rude about me writing it…**

**Anyways…**

"Randy, I can't tell him about that!" Trish gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "How do you think he would feel if he just randomly found out that some guy had sex with his wife?"

"Wait a minute," Randy said, interrupting his own train of thought that Trish had sent him on. "This happened while you were married? Trish, you've barely been married a year! Tell me something, Trish. When exactly did Shane rape you?"

"Can we please not use the 'R' word anymore?" Trish pleaded, hugging herself to try and keep herself warm.

"Fine then. Let me rephrase the question. When did Shane…you know?"

"I wasn't married yet," Trish answered quickly.

"Hold on, Trish," Randy said. Trish tensed up, hoping that she avoided the question successfully.

"What?" she shrugged.

"You haven't been married for most of your life. You're still technically a newlywed, for Christ's sake! Just tell me, when _exactly_ did Shane rape you?"

"I don't remember the exact date. It's kind of something I'm trying to push out of my mind," Trish sighed.

"Trish, you know what I mean."

"Okay, it was…Well…It was the June before I retired," Trish said in all one breath.

"WHAT?!" Randy said, pounding his fist on the wooden railing. "Trish, you were engaged. You were in a relationship. I'm sure Shane knew that. What the fuck, Trish! The instant that Ron comes home from visiting his parents, you have to tell him."

"I can't just flat out tell him something like that, Randy!" Trish squealed, once again starting to cry.

"You have to. Ron loves you. He can help you get over it," Randy said.

"Randy, isn't Shawn waiting for you?" Trish asked, turning away from Randy and walking to the other side of the deck.

"Yeah, he is," Randy said, sighing, giving up on Trish. "You're a lost cause, Trish."

Trish didn't respond. Instead, she just ignored Randy and pretended not to hear what he said. Randy stared at the back of her head for a couple of minutes before walking back through the house and letting himself out.

* * *

"Did you get anywhere with her?" Shawn asked as Randy jumped in the passenger's seat and buckled his seatbelt.

"No, man. She's just content with going on like it never happened. What she doesn't realize is that this shit is going to eat her alive," Randy said, playing with the shoulder strap of the seatbelt.

"Well, at least we tried. Let's just remember that we can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

* * *

Ron came home late the next day. After a tiring time of arguing with his mother about his wife's decision to open an yoga studio, he was looking forward to spending some quality time with his wife. He was expecting to come home to a happy Trish who was ready to tell him stories about her visit with her old company.

Instead, he found a depressed Trish. She was half asleep on the black leather couch wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt. Her face was clearly tearstained and she was watching infomercials on the television.

"Trish, what happened?" Ron asked, concerned. He dropped his coat on the ground and rushed over to Trish's side.

"Hm?" she said sleepily.

"Babe, you're crying. What's wrong?"

Since Trish was not fully aware of herself, her mind wasn't all there, either. She had been thinking about what Randy had said nonstop since he left. If she was fully awake, she would be pretending to be happy. Ron never would have suspected a thing.

But since she wasn't thinking straight…

"Ron, I have something to tell you."

"Anything."

Trish took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. She mumbled in a sleepy daze, "Shane…me…he…July…rape…"

"WHAT?!" Ron bellowed. In reality, he heard and comprehended what she had said. He was just utterly shocked about it.

"Yeah," Trish muttered, nearly in the realm of sleep.

"Trish, I want a fucking divorce."


	9. Divorce Court

**A/N: I've got nothing. Oh wait, I do.**

**There's a difference between a hiatus and giving up. I'm not giving up. I don't give up on my stories. If I do, I delete them.**

"What?" Trish said, sitting up. Ron's remark had definitely woken her up from her half sleeping state.

"You heard me, whore. I. Want. A. Fucking. Divorce," Ron reiterated, his face turning red.

"What? Why?" Trish said, her jaw dropping and tears spilling. She couldn't believe that her husband already wanted a divorce after being married for just under a year.

"You _lied_ to me, Trish!" Ron yelled, throwing his hands up in the air in disgust. "How could you not tell me that he raped you _in July_? What about honesty? I could have helped you through this."

"You can't help someone through rape, Ron," Trish said, groggily rolling her eyes.

"I could have helped you get over it. But nope, not Trish Stratus, the almighty women's wrestler. No one can help _her_ with anything. She can do anything by herself and doesn't need anyone, not even her fucking husband," Ron sneered sarcastically, walking over to his coat and picking it up from off of the ground.

"Ron, where are you going?" Trish asked, standing up and rushing over to her husband.

He hurriedly put his coat on and zipped it up. "I'm going out. I need some time to think. What a great fucking welcome home present."

Ron left the house and slammed the door shut behind him. Trish slumped down on the ground. She couldn't even feel the plush carpet beneath her. Her mind just kept replaying those six words over and over again:

_Trish, I want a fucking divorce._

Did Trish really want to divorce her husband? Of course not.

But he was supposed to love her for better or for _worse_. This was definitely one of those worse moments.

And if this is how Ron was going to act when his wife was truly in need, maybe Trish wanted that divorce, as well.

* * *

"Hello?" answered the gruff, tired voice of Shawn Michaels. His cell phone had been going off at a late hour of the night, and we was not accustomed to that. If anything, he had assumed that it was his wife having an emergency with the kids or something along the lines of that.

"Shawn?" Trish mumbled through her tears.

"Trish? Honey, are you crying?" Shawn asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up.

"Yeah…"

"Why? Are you having bad flashbacks of Shane?"

"No, but…b-but…"

"Trish, what is it?"

"Ron wants a divorce," Trish sobbed.

"He what?"

"I told him about Shane like Randy told me to and…and…he said that's it. It's over. He doesn't want to be my husband anymore. Shawn, I don't know what to do…" Trish trailed off through her tears.

"Aw, Trish…Well, I'm here until Thursday. I have a flight to California for some house shows. Do you need me to stop by?" Shawn asked, offering to help console his friend.

"Could you, please? And could you bring Randy with you? Well, if he wants to come," Trish asked.

"That's a possibility. Is Ron home now?"

"No, he ran off on me. I don't know when he's coming back."

"Typical guy…Okay, Randy and I will come over tomorrow, alright?"

"Alright. Thank you, Shawn."

"No problem, darling," Shawn said, hanging up with Trish.

Even though Trish was the one with the real crisis, Shawn would also be having trouble sleeping. Not only would he have to calm his nerves from thinking that his wife was in trouble, he would be thinking about Trish's ordeal with Ron.

* * *

"Orton, let's go!" Shawn said, banging on Randy's hotel room door.

"Just a second!" Randy called back.

"It only takes two minutes to do your hair, boy. Now let's go!"

"Fine, fine," Randy sighed, rolling his eyes at the antics of his mentor and good friend. "Do you think he'll be there?" Randy asked, meeting Shawn out in the hallway.

"Nah, I don't think Ron's that dumb. Trish could kick his ass in a heartbeat," Shawn chuckled.

* * *

Trish sat in her living room, thinking about the day that Shane had raped her. Ever since seeing him again at RAW, she couldn't stop replaying _that_ day over and over in her head…


	10. Reliving the Pain

**A/N: I wasn't going to put any more flashbacks in here even though they were asked for because I didn't find them relevant to the present part of the story. But then as I was writing the end of the previous chapter, I decided to throw a little something in…I'm going to start it with the previous flashback, just in case people are like "I think I read this before…"**

_**Flashback**_

"_Come on, Trish, just come out on a date with me," Shane pleaded with the Canadian blonde Diva._

"_Um, no thanks, Shane. I really just see you as a friend," Trish answered._

"_Aw, that hurts, Trish. You don't want to make me sad, do you?"_

"_I'm sorry, Shane," Trish laughed, thinking Shane was just joking around._

"_Trish, I'm going to ask you one more time…"_

"_Really, Shane? Then ask away. I assure you, my answer isn't going to change at all," Trish sighed. Yes, she knew that Shane would be persistent. She believed that if she kept turning him down, he'd eventually go away. She did not want to get cross with him or snap on him; her job depended on it._

_He had been keeping this up for a couple of months now. Shane knew that Trish already had a man in her life. She had a boyfriend. Even more than that, she was engaged. And even more than _that_, she was set to be married in a few months. Trish had her whole life already planned out with her fiancé, Ron. Her retirement was set up for September. She would casually fade into the background and open a yoga studio, one of her lifelong dreams. Life would be good and she'd be happy with Ron._

_Shane didn't like it when beautiful women were happy without him._

_Fire burned in his eyes. A rough and tough hand was placed, rather gripped, around Trish's right shoulder. He pushed her up against the wall behind her and bent his face down in front of hers._

"_Is that any way to talk to one of your bosses?" he growled._

_That crossed the line. "Your sister is the one that decides that, not you," Trish snapped back. It was true; Stephanie had more power over the occupational status of the WWE wrestlers than Shane had. He dealt mostly with media._

_But he was still a huge influence on the opinion of the head bitch in charge, Vincent Kennedy McMahon._

_His grip on her tightened as his anger grew exponentially. "Shane, let go," Trish whined. "You're hurting me."_

"_Oh, just like you hurt my feelings?" Shane asked, continuing to squeeze her shoulder more and more. He wasn't aware that he was doing it, really. He was just releasing his anger onto her as if she was a stress ball._

"_Shane, let go of me!" Trish yelled, trying to squirm her way out of Shane's grasp. She tried wrenching his hand off of her shoulder, but he had a vice grip on it. Even though she was a strong woman, Shane was even stronger._

"_Not until you agree to go out with me," Shane mumbled angrily._

"_Fine! I'll go out with you! Now just let me go!"_

"_That's not good enough, Trish!" Shane screamed. He sharply slapped her across her face with his free hand._

_Trish yelled in pain, but there were no other people around in the hallway. The show was over and most people had already left._

_Shane looked down the hallway and saw a broom closet. "Come on, Trish. We're going on that date you just agreed to, and I'm choosing the festivities. I would personally prefer a happy ending, wouldn't you?" Shane asked, his voice and temper growing as the question carried on._

_Trish's face drained of all color. Shane couldn't possibly be talking about…_

_Shane scooped Trish up in his arms. She tried to kick free with all the strength the could gather, but it was to no avail. She put up a fight. There was no way in hell she was just going to succumb to the power of some man._

_Shane nearly knocked the door off of its hinges. Instead of gently placing Trish on the ground and onto her feet, he literally tossed her into the shelves along the wall. A metal bucket filled with nails fell down from the top shelf and onto her head from the impact, knocking her unconscious._

_When Trish regained her senses, she was completely naked. Her back shivered against the cold, concrete ground. But the top side of her body was scorching hot._

_That was because a sweaty Shane McMahon was on top of her._

_As he violently thrusted in and out of her, he grumbled random nothings about her. Mostly, they were along the lines of:_

"_Trish, you should have let me have you."_

"_You better not tell anyone about this."_

"_You're lucky you're fucking knocked out."_

"_Trish, I'm sorry it had to be this way."_

_Trish tried to yell out for help, but Shane's hand instantly covered her mouth when he saw that she was awake._

_Shane let out a heavy grunt as he finished. He pushed himself off of her and got dressed. Trish didn't dare move. She was afraid and shocked about what had just happened._

_Shane opened the door to leave. Before he left, he turned to the woman he had just raped. "If you say a word to anyone about this, I will make sure that you never live a peaceful life ever again." He exited the room, leaving Trish on the floor, cold, naked, and violated._

_But after what he did to her, could she ever live a peaceful life?_


	11. A New Home

Trish shivered under her blanket. She trudged to her bedroom and grabbed a blanket off of her bed and went back to the couch in the living room. She crawled under it and stayed there, still reliving the horror of that day in July. However, she left the comfort of the cloth barrier when she heard a knock at the door.

Trish walked so slowly to the door that she was nearly tiptoeing. She lifted herself onto her toes so she could peek out of the window on the top of the door so she could see who it was. She assumed it was going to be Shawn and Randy, but…

But if it was Ron…Trish didn't know what she would do.

Luckily for her and everything that was fragile in her house, it was indeed Shawn and Randy. Trish could see the top of Shawn's cowboy hat peeking out from the window. She smiled to herself before opening the door.

"Trish, we—" Shawn started, but Trish nearly knocked him down as she launched herself into a hug with him. "It's nice to see you, too, Trish," Shawn said, gently patting her back.

"Thank you for coming," she sobbed, a very light stream of tears coming down from her eyes. After she broke away from Shawn, she turned her attention to Randy. She did the same thing to him that she did to Shawn. "Thank you, Randy. Thank you so much…"

Randy's eyes widened as Trish crashed into him. His crystal blue eyes looked down at the top of the much shorter woman's blonde head. She buried her face into his chest and the only thing he could do was embrace her back.

* * *

Trish invited the two men in her home, not for the first time, but possibly the last. "I don't want to stay here," Trish informed them.

"I don't blame you," Shawn said. "Can't you just back your stuff up and leave?"

"I wish I could, Shawn. But I can't take anything until the divorce is settled. Besides, I don't even know where Ron is. I'm assuming he's at his parents house again, but now…I can't be so sure."

"Just leave, Trish. Just take everything and leave. It's just as simple as that," Shawn explained.

"No, it isn't," Trish countered. "I feel stalked ever since I told you guys about this. I feel as if Shane is looming over me wherever I go. I feel like Ron is peeking at me through the windows of the house. Besides, I don't have anywhere to turn to."

"Yes, you do," Randy said, finally talking. "You can stay with me in St. Louis."

"Randy…" Shawn said, but it was Trish who took all of the attention.

"Really, Randy?" Trish smiled, her eyes glistening.

Randy smiled back at her. No, he wasn't really thinking rationally, but he deeply cared for Trish. She was a good friend, and he wanted to see her happy. Maybe finally he'd have someone around the house to talk to, and his home life wouldn't be so lonely. He hadn't had a girlfriend for quite some time since his road schedule was quite consuming, so having a woman around in any sense would be quite some change.

"Yeah, Trish. Really. Just take what is really yours like your clothes and stuff and I'll fly you out there tonight if there's a flight. Hell, I'll fly with you. Vince has been promising me some time off, anyways. And—"

"Randy, Vince isn't just going to _give_ you time off," Shawn warned.

"You're right," Randy sighed, realizing that his plan was officially shot down. But then he grinned. "Unless…"

"No, Randy, I'm not doing it," Shawn said.

"Come on, Shawn. Please? Can't you see that Trish is in pain? We need to get her out of here. If you just talk to Vince…"

"Randy, can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Shawn asked without really asking. He grabbed Randy by the arm and dragged him outside. "If I do that, we'll have to _tell_ Vince what happened."

"Fuck," Randy muttered. "We probably shouldn't do that."

"But if we do…Randy, Vince isn't a bad guy. Yeah, Shane is his son, but I don't think he'd consider Shane a son if he knew what he did to Trish."

"I'm not telling him," Randy quickly said.

"I know you won't. And do you want to know why I won't?"

"Because I don't want Trish to hate me, obviously," Randy said, rolling his eyes.

"No, because you're falling in love with her."


	12. Beggars Can't be Choosers

"What are you talking about?" Randy asked in shock, his jaw slightly dropped so his mouth was gaping open.

"Randy, I may be getting old, but I'm not an idiot. I can tell when the love bug is biting a young man. I can't believe this," Shawn said, rubbing his forehead.

"How can you think that I'm falling in love with her? I don't even like blondes," Randy said, racking his brain for every possible excuse he could find as to why he couldn't be falling in love with Trish. That was the only one he could come up with, and it wasn't even a very good one.

"Even if I was falling in love with her, what would that have to do with me not telling Vince about what Shane did to her? I don't see how those things are even comparable, Shawn," Randy said, rolling his eyes.

"Of course you don't, because you're a jackass," Shawn sighed.

"Hey…"

"Fine, I'll drop it, but it's still true," Shawn said, shrugging off the obvious accusation that young Randy was falling in love. "Anyways, I can't just ask for time off for you like that. Vince may be a reasonable man, but he needs a _reason_ for me to just suddenly ask for time off, especially if it's not even for me!"

"Say it's an emergency or something…or something that I'm too embarrassed to say myself," Randy suggested. "He'll let you do it then."

"Why aren't you doing this?" Shawn asked.

"Because, well…It's pointless lying, so I guess I'll just come right out with it…Shawn, Vince scares me," Randy admitted.

Shawn stared blankly at Randy for a few moments before the ends of his lips curled into a smile. He tried to hold in his laughter, but it was to no avail. Shawn doubled over with laughter, pointing at Randy. "Man, you're afraid of Vincent Kennedy McMahon? What are you, a five year old?"

"He's a scary guy!" Randy said, trying to defend himself.

"Yeah, okay, Randall. And John Cena is the greatest champion ever."

"Whatever," Randy said. "So, are we doing this or not?"

"I guess," Shawn finally agreed. "I mean, I'll try, but I can't make any promises."

* * *

"Trish, can you just stay here for a couple more hours?" Shawn asked. "Randy and I need to go and see Vince."

"Yeah, I can do that. You promise you're coming back?" Trish asked.

"Yeah, we promise," Shawn said.

* * *

"Vince, can I ask you a favor?" Shawn asked as he entered Vince's office. Randy was patiently waiting outside. Vince had kept to the arena since the show ended and would stay there until they flew out for the next city.

"Sure, Shawn. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering…Well, you know that time off you said you were going to give to Randy?"

"That I do, Shawn."

"I was wondering if you'd let him cash that in now," Shawn said rather quickly. He wasn't exactly comfortable with doing this.

"Why isn't he asking for this himself? Is he alright?" Vince asked.

"Well, no. He's kind of having a personal emergency that he doesn't want to talk about."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I am," Shawn lied.

"I guess….I think I can give him…He doesn't have to work this RAW or the next one, but he's due back at the one after that, alright?" Vince said, rubbing his temples. He was starting to get a headache.

Shawn left the office after finishing everything up with Vince. "Did you get it for me?" Randy asked excitedly as Shawn approached him.

Before Shawn could answer Randy's question, the two men were interrupted.

"What on earth are you two doing here?"

Shawn and Randy turned to the source of the voice, only to see Shane McMahon walking towards them.


	13. Veni Vidi Vici

"We could ask you the same thing," Shawn growled back, not happy at all to see Shane McMahon waltzing towards them. Did Shane know that Randy and Shawn knew what he had done to Trish? Of course not. In his eyes, he did nothing wrong. To Shane, it was a man's right to take what he wanted from a woman. A woman had no right to contradict him.

Shane believed himself to be a warrior when it came to women. He came, he saw, he conquered.

What an asshole.

"Why would you ask the reasons I am here?" Shane asked. "My father works here, so maybe I am visiting him. Besides, I am a very important person in this company; way more important that the likes of _you_, so why don't you two just leave."

"I've done more for this business than you ever will, kid," Shawn grumbled, stepping up close to Shane's face. He was getting angry and he wasn't about to let some snot nosed kid boss him around.

"Back off, Shawn," Randy said, trying to get Shawn away from Shane. Randy didn't want the other two guys instigating a fight. He could get in trouble by association.

"Oh, look who it is, Shawn. It's your little buddy, Randy Orton. The third generation Superstar of destiny, is that what you're calling yourself now?" Shane asked, laughing at Randy's expense. "Why don't you just go and cry to your daddy to get more title shots, okay?"

That surely lit a fire under Randy. Did his dad meander his way around Vince to get title shots for his son? No, he did not. Randy earned those on his own. In any other circumstance, he would have beaten the holy hell out of Shane McMahon. If it weren't for the warning glares that Shawn was giving him…

Shane McMahon would be a dead man.

"At least I'm not—" Randy started, but he was then cut off by Shawn smacking him in the arm. Randy was going to say, "At least I'm not a rapist," but Shawn cut him off just in the nick of time. Shane didn't know that anyone else but Trish knew about what had taken place that day in July.

"At least you're not what, Randy?" Shane asked, teasing Randy. Shane was not a dumb man. He understood that in the business of wrestling, management power beat physical power and fan support (or lack thereof, in Randy's case).

Randy didn't respond to Shane's question. Instead, he clenched his jaw and fists.

"Well, if you won't answer it, I will. I know what you're not, Randy. You're _not_ better than me. I am better than you. I have a better family than you, I am better looking than you, I have a better job than you. Get over it, Orton, because whatever you're here for, I'm going to make sure you don't get," Shane explained.

"Really, Shane? Well, it just so happens that Randy already got his time off. That's why we are here," Shawn said, interrupting the possible altercation between Randy and Shane. Shawn knew that Randy had a short temper, and Shane was just the person to pull the trigger and start an Orton outrage.

"Is that right? Well, maybe I'll just tell _my father_ that I caught Randy smoking the reefer again and I'm sure he'll revoke that privilege," Shane sneered.

This time, it was Shawn that stepped up to Shane. "Do that, and I'll be sure to let your father know your biggest secret."

"Shawn!" Randy gasped. He didn't think they were going to let Shane know that they knew. They didn't even tell Vince as they anticipated that they would have to.

"Really, Shawn? Would you like to tell me what my biggest secret is?"

Shawn only smiled at the younger and evil man in front of him. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Are you on drugs, man?" Randy asked, smacking his forehead.

"Come on, Randy. We have to pack for the flight tonight," Shawn said. Randy didn't argue with Shawn; he simply left with him, leaving Shane standing in the hallway, confused.


	14. Fear of Heights

**A/N: Apparently, you are a nobody if you're reading this. Well, at least that's according to the ANONYMOUS (shocker) flame I got. It gave me a good laugh. It was on the last chapter, if you'd like to take a gander at it.**

**And according to this flame, my writing "skillz" suck.**

Shawn drove himself and Randy back to Trish's house. They were set to pack up Trish's things and fly her out to Randy's house. Randy bought two tickets from Toronto to St. Louis over the internet on his phone.

"Do you think we should tell Trish about seeing Shane?" Randy asked.

"Are you an idiot?" Shawn gasped. "You don't want to upset her more than she already is. Hell, she agreed to move in with you for a while. Don't you think she's upset enough?"

"I'm just trying to be a good friend," Randy sighed.

Shawn completely switched gears. He went from the kind, older brother type to the over protective father type that has a gun stashed by the front door for Friday nights when his teenage daughter goes out on dates. "You listen to me, boy," Shawn growled. Randy flinched as Shawn's sudden change of tone. "I swear on all that is holy, if you hurt her, it will be the last thing you do. I know your reputation with the women, okay. If you treat Trish even a fraction as bad as you've treated them, you will never wrestle again. I will personally make sure of that. Do you understand?"

Randy's eyes widened at Shawn's lecture. Sure, he really did have a bad reputation when it came to women, but that was only because Randy didn't care about any of them. They were just time fillers. But Trish?

She meant something to him.

"Look, Shawn, you know I won't let anything bad happen to her, nor will I do anything to her," Randy assured his older confidant.

Just as quickly as Shawn changed personalities, he changed back. "Yeah, Randy, I know you won't. I just can't help but be a little wary about the situation. Besides, I know you wouldn't hurt the girl you're falling in love with."

"Shawn, I told you. I'm not falling in love with her," Randy told him.

"Yeah, right. And you own more than two pairs of pants," Shawn mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Huh?" Randy said, not quite hearing what Shawn had said.

"Oh, nothing. Look, let's play a game, shall we?" Shawn asked. "If you start mumbling and turning red when we help her pack, you and I will both know for sure that you're falling in love with the girl. Okay?"

"That doesn't sound like a fun game," Randy frowned.

"Oh, it will be for me," Shawn grinned.

The two men left the car and walked up to Trish's house. Shawn took the liberty of knocking on the door. Trish quickly answered, almost as if she was waiting patiently by the door for them. "Come in," she smiled.

The three of them packed Trish's clothes relatively fast. She really didn't need anything else, seeing as Randy could provide it for her. Two suitcases later and everything and everyone was set to go.

"Randy, thank you," Trish said as she hugged Randy.

"I…um…you're welcome, Trish," Randy stammered back, his cheeks turning a light shade of rose.

Shawn caught Randy's eye and chuckled to himself. "Shut up," Randy mouthed to Shawn.

Shawn started dancing behind Trish's back. "I am right and you are wrong," he mouthed back to Randy.

"Fuck you," Randy mouthed once again to Shawn. Before Shawn could answer back, Trish let go of Randy.

"Are we leaving now?"

"Yeah, let's go," Shawn answered.

It was an awkward ride to the airport. Randy kept his mouth shut, only speaking when it was necessary for him to. Trish wasn't really in the mood for exchanging polite conversation. Shawn was trying to get the two to talk as much as possible.

Shawn saw the two off at the security gates after checking in and sending their luggage to the plane. He gave them hurried goodbyes and left, having to get to his own flight to the next city. Trish and Randy went through security and waited in some chairs near their terminal gate. As their flight was called, they joined the line to board the plane.

Once they were seated and buckled in, Trish turned to Randy. "Randy, I've never told anybody this, but…"

"What is it?"

"I'm afraid of flying."

**A/N: Sorry about the wait…I had work and the schedules changed…and then One Night Stand that I fell asleep during…Oh yeah, and that anonymous flame.**


	15. Overcome the Beast

**A/N: So, it strikes again. I am not sure of its gender, so it will remain an "it." Well, anonymous flamer, shocked as I am to see you stick around, I'd like to know something. Why are you obsessed with this story? Clearly, you must be. But of one thing you are certain: you ARE a joke. You live up to what your flaming alias says. Why me and why this story? You must know you are not the first person who is targeting me. I find it humorous, and I'd like to know why you enjoy sending me into fits of laughter.**

"Trish, an airplane is not the best place to be if you're afraid of flying. What did you do when you flew with the WWE? You went on all of the international tours and everything. Those are some long flights," Randy asked.

"Erm…I hid it well," Trish admitted, slightly embarrassed with her confession.

The pilot's voice sounded over the loudspeaker and informed everyone to buckle up because the plane would be taking off shortly.

"Did anyone else know?"

"Um, no, actually…"

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Randy wondered.

"I just…I don't know. It didn't seem important, I guess. Besides, who would believe me?" Trish asked. "I mean, I'm not supposed to be afraid of anything. Trish Stratus is fearless."

"Everyone is afraid of something, Trish," Randy said wisely. "Whether it be heights, flying, or sons of famous billionaires, there's always something."

"So, Randy, what are you afraid of?" Trish asked, not noticing that the plane was starting to take off into flight for St. Louis.

"There are a few things," Randy sighed. He didn't quite like talking about his fears. He was a man, and he believed that men should be fearless and the protectors of women. It was alright for them to be afraid, but Randy? He wanted perfection in himself, and perfection was fearless.

"Oh, come on, Orton. I told you what really irks me out. Tell me what scares you," Trish said, bringing up her knees and hugging her legs, resting the back of her feet on the edge of the seat and her chin on her knees.

"Promise not to laugh?"

"I promise."

Randy fumbled a bit with his words. How could he openly admit this to Trish? The only people who knew where his parents. Well, they've known since Randy was old enough to know what fear was. They were the ones who had to take care of the situation when he wasn't quite tall enough…

"Spiders. I hate spiders."

Trish couldn't help but giggle. Randy Orton, afraid of spiders? That was just one of the most ridiculous things she's ever heard in her life.

"Hey, you promised you wouldn't laugh!"

"I'm not laughing," Trish said, bringing her giggling to a cease. "It's just…You? Spiders? Come on, I thought you were more man than that."

"So, are you saying that men can't be afraid of things? If you're allowed to be scared of flying, why aren't allowed to be afraid of spiders?" Randy asked with a serious look on his face, but a jokingly serious tone.

"But…Why?"

"They way they move…The way they look…The way that you don't know if they're poisonous or not…They're just sick!" Randy said. "Okay, can we just drop the spider thing? That kid from Harry Potter was afraid of spiders and no one made fun of him!"

"Um, Randy? Didn't you read the books?"

"No, I just saw the movies."

"Well…" Trish wanted to inform Randy that in the books, "that kid" did get made fun of for being afraid of spiders, but she thought better of it. "Maybe if I try to sleep before the plane takes off, I won't be so freaked out about it."

"Trish, the plane already took off."

"What?" Trish, who was sitting in the window seat, looked to her left and out the window. Sure enough, they were in the air and the earth was thousands of feet below them.

"See, it wasn't so bad."

"Randy?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"Any time, Trish. Any time."

Trish continued to peer out the window as the conversation between the two of them had ended. After a few minutes, she curled up in her chair and fell asleep.

Randy wanted so badly to lean over and kiss the lips of the sleeping Trish Stratus. Wanting it was one thing. Doing it was another. He didn't do it because three things would happen.

One, it would wake Trish up.

Two, it would probably freak Trish out.

Three, Randy would prove to himself that Shawn was right.

Randy took one last glance at Trish's sleeping form and leaned back in his own chair, closing his eyes.

_Damnit, I am falling in love with her._


	16. Moving Day

**A/N: Flaming runt: Three stories? Okay, multiply that by twenty-one, and you still have less stories than I have written. I am nobody's "queen." It's not my fault that people like this story. Oh wait…it is. And if you didn't like that it said "TrishxRandy" in the summary, then why would you even read something you already knew you didn't like? You're a walking hypocrite.**

**Everybody else: I did not say "I'm giving up on writing because of this idiot." Please do not tell me how to handle a flame. I'll deal with it how I want to and write/update when I want to. I'm sorry for sounding rude, but this is getting out of hand.**

When the pilot informed the passengers that they would be landing soon, Randy didn't bother waking Trish up. Maybe she was just as afraid of landing in a plane as she was taking off in a plane. After they landed and everyone was preparing to get off the plane by getting their carry-ons from the overhead compartments, Randy gently shook Trish awake.

"Trish, wake up. We're here," he whispered, rubbing her arm.

"Hm?" she mumbled, dazed from sleep. Her blonde hair was slightly tousled and she looked as if she slept peacefully throughout the entire flight.

"Come on. I'll get our stuff," Randy said, joining the crown in standing in the aisles and reaching above their seats to grab their items.

* * *

"I miss this," Trish said as the two of them went to the baggage claim.

"What, grabbing your luggage from a conveyor belt?" Randy laughed. Trish spotted her bags and pointed them out to Randy, and he grabbed them as they passed.

"No, silly. Just the whole traveling thing. It was so much fun to travel from city to city every week," Trish reminisced as Randy found his suitcase and picked it up.

"Still is," Randy replied. The two headed over to the parking structure. Whenever Randy was out of town for extended periods of time, he just paid to have his car kept safely in the overnight parking section. He piled their bags into the trunk of his black Hummer and hopped in the driver's seat while Trish entered the truck and sat in the passenger's seat.

The ride to Randy's house was a silent one, but a comfortable silence. Trish was still slightly sleepy, and she spent most of the short ride looking out the window. It had been a while since she had been to St. Louis with the WWE, and she wanted to remember as much of it as she could. Randy concentrated on the road, as he rightly should, but every once in a while, he would peek at Trish out of the corner of his eye.

"Wow," Trish gasped once her eyes laid sight on Randy's large house. "Being a third generation Superstar clearly has its benefits."

"You could say that," Randy said, carrying all of their luggage into the house. He fumbled with his keys but eventually got the door open. He held the door open for Trish and he walked in with everything right after her. "Welcome home."

"Randy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Trish sighed, hugging Randy tightly around his waist. He nearly dropped everything out of shock, but he was able to comfortably set everything down and return the hug.

"Come on, I'll show you to your room." The two walked up the stairs and Randy led her into an old-fashioned room. "Okay, I know the decorations suck, but it's the only guest room I have, and this is usually where my parents stay when they visit."

Old-fashioned? Trish didn't care. She smiled at the sight of the eloquent room. She adored the red quilt that covered the queen size bed. She was happy with where she was, and she was happy that Randy was doing this for her.

* * *

Randy left Trish to unpack and get settled. After she was finished, she skipped downstairs and plopped down next to Randy on the couch, who was reading the newspaper. "Randy, why are you being so nice to me? It's not like we were ever really _that_ close when I was still with the WWE," Trish wondered.

"I…well…" Randy stammered. He didn't know how to answer that question. What could he say? What _should_ he say?

Trish smiled at his confusion. "It's okay, Randy. You're like the older brother I've never had," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.

_Great, it's like incest now._

"And if I bother you in any way, just tell me to go home, and I will."

"No, Trish. I am _not_ sending you back to him. I would never forgive myself if I did," Randy said. _And neither would Shawn_.


	17. Billie Jean

Randy woke up early the next morning. At first, he wondered why he was up so early. Surely, he had a flight out to the next city for RAW and needed as much sleep as he could possibly get. It was then that Randy realized that he for once had woken up in his own bed in his own house and that he had an extended period of time off. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was six in the morning. Remembering that Trish was just down the hall, Randy walked quietly around the house, opening the shades to let the morning sun in.

Randy decided to call Shawn to let him know what was going on and to reassure him that Trish was safe in his care. Sure, Shawn would probably be mad at Randy for waking him up, but he would be okay with it if he knew that Trish was in safe hands.

"Boy, this better be good," Shawn grumbled. "I have a four hour drive to make soon, and since you're not here, I have to travel with Hunter. Do you know how torturous that is? He needs to stop and use the bathroom every ten miles."

"Don't you want to know what happened to Trish? She's in trouble," Randy said with fake fear in his voice.

"WHAT? I KNEW I SHOULDN'T HAVE LEFT HER WITH YOU! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER, HUH? DID YOU LOSE HER AT THE AIRPORT?" Shawn hollered, now fully awake.

"Shawn, settle down," Hunter said from next to Shawn. Randy could hear Hunter over the line. "It's six in the fucking morning, man. Hang up on the kid and go to sleep."

Randy couldn't help but chuckle at Hunter's words. "What are you doing, Shawn? Sleeping in the same bed as him or something?"

"No," Shawn pointedly said. "The beds are just really close in this motel, and it's creeping me out. Anyways, why are you laughing when Trish is in trouble?"

"Because she's just fine," Randy said, now in full laughter mode. "I was just messing with you."

"That's not something you mess about, boy," Shawn warned. "I'm not that young anymore. You just might give me a heart attack, son."

"Sorry, Shawn. Nah, I was just calling you to tell you that we got into town safe and we're at my house. Trish is upstairs sleeping." Randy could hear Shawn getting tense over the line, so he added, "Yes, Shawn, she has her own room down the hall from mine."

"She better…I want her as far away from you as possible…" Shawn mumbled. He really didn't mean it. He just saw himself as a father figure when it came to Trish.

"Shawn, you have nothing to worry about," Randy reassured.

"I know," Shawn sighed. "On a lighter note, did you tell her you loved her yet?"

"Bye, Shawn," Randy said as he rolled his eyes, closing his phone while Shawn tried to make his closing arguments.

* * *

"Whoa, Orton, you cook?" Trish giggled as she entered the kitchen. The smell of breakfast had woken her up from her comfortable slumber.

"Sleep well?" Randy asked as he flipped the bacon.

"Mhm," Trish answered. "I really feel like home here. Thanks, Randy."

"Stop thanking me and start eating," Randy said, giving Trish a plate of breakfast.

"You really are the perfect man, Randy," Trish sighed and she started eating.

_Yeah, too bad you think I'm your brother or something_.

* * *

Randy went upstairs after breakfast to shower. He went into his room and grabbed some clothes. He picked up his phone to check the time and noticed that he had a new text message from Hunter.

_Shawn says that you better not taint Trish with your Legend Killer, if you know what I'm saying._

Randy was almost starting to get offended by these accusations, even though he knew that he was falling in love with her. Randy typed a quick message back.

_Trish Stratus is not my lover. She's just a girl who think's that I am her brother. Now leave me alone. I have to shower._

After Randy's quick shower, he went back to his room to put his dirty clothes in his laundry hamper. His phone chimed and he checked his newest text message…once again from Hunter.

_Alright, Michael Jackson. Don't take any little boys in there with you_.

* * *

When Randy went back downstairs, he found Trish sobbing on the couch. "Trish, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Shawn called me," Trish sighed. Randy spotted her cell phone in her lap. "Ron called Vince. Randy, Ron's looking for me."


	18. Secrets Revealed

"What?" Randy gasped as his eyes widened. He was in serious disbelief after hearing Trish's words. "You're not seeing him. He's not going to find you."

"You can't promise me that, Randy," Trish sobbed. The tears that hadn't fallen from her eyes since she was staying with Randy now let themselves out at full force.

"I didn't promise you anything, Trish," Randy said in a gentle tone, although the words didn't string together quite so gently.

"But, I—" Trish choked, taking on Randy's words the wrong way.

"Whoa, Trish, I didn't mean it like that. Look, I _can't_ promise you anything. I really can't. When I promise things, the worst tends to happen, and I don't want that to happen to you. I couldn't live with myself if it did. I can try my best to keep him away from you, but I'm not exactly the best protector."

"How can you say that?"

"Well, it's true."

"No, Randy, it's not. You've kept me safe here this long. In my eyes, you're the world's greatest protector."

* * *

"Shawn, I need to see you in my office now," Vince pointedly said, seeing Shawn warming up for the show that night in the hallway. Having no idea what this was about, he decided to simply follow Vince to see what he needed.

The two men walked in silence, Shawn slightly behind Vince as they headed to the dreaded office. Shawn's mind was racing. He hadn't done anything wrong, had he? Did something happen to Randy? Or worse, Trish?

The second after he had stepped through the threshold of the office, Shawn felt physically and emotionally knocked over.

"WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?"

"Ron? What are you doing here?" Shawn asked, shocked to see the man sitting, well, now standing, in Vince's office.

"I was wondering the same thing," Vince stated. "He called me, and then showed up and said he was with you, and that's how he got passed the security manning the parking lot."

"Remind me to have a talk with them for the next time someone says they're with me," Shawn grumbled under his breath.

"I know she's with you, Shawn," Ron said.

"Well, that's where you're wrong," Shawn answered back with an equal, if not greater, tone of animosity in his voice. "She is not with me. Otherwise, she'd be here, now wouldn't she?"

"She's with that monkey looking guy, isn't she? ISN'T SHE?" Ron yelled when he wasn't getting the response that he desired.

"Who is a monkey? I don't have any monkeys working for me," Vince interrupted, clearly not understanding the situation at hand.

"Yes, you do," Ron answered. "That Orton kid. She's with him, isn't she?"

"That, Ron, is none of your business," Shawn growled.

"She's my wife, so it damn well is my fucking business." Ron took a couple of steps closer to Shawn and glared at him.

"According to you, she won't be your wife for much longer," Shawn said. "You're the one that wants a divorce. This is all your fault."

"Should I leave?" Vince asked, realizing that he had nothing to do with the situation, and that all Ron and Shawn would do is argue about Trish.

"No, Vince. Please, stay. In a way, this concerns you."

"How do your personal affairs concern me?"

"Well, not you directly. But the very directly involve your son."

"What does Shane have to do with this?"

"Oh, like you don't know."

"Actually…" Shawn tried to warn Ron. Ron didn't know that Vince had no idea of what Shane had done to Trish.

"What did my son do?" Vince wondered. Was his son in danger? Did his son put someone else in danger?

"Your son raped my wife."


	19. Inevitable Torture

**A/N: I was going to wait to post this until tomorrow (because tomorrow is my birthday!), but I might just write another one tomorrow. We'll see.**

"He…Shane…What on earth are you talking about, Ron?" Vince asked, astounded. Could his son really be capable of such horrible things that he was being accused of? Of course not…Right?

"He raped her, Vince," Ron reiterated. "He raped her and there's nothing that any of us can do to reverse that fact."

"I wasn't insinuating that I, Vincent Kennedy McMahon, was indeed powerful enough or rich enough to go back in time and meddle in the affairs of my only son," Vince huffed.

"You're not on camera, man! You don't need to talk like that. Can't you talk about this like a normal person?" Ron begged, getting annoyed with Vince's alter ego.

"Ron, the way that Vince likes to speak is the least of our problems right now," Shawn butted in. Shawn sighed. "Look, Vince, it's true. You should have seen her when she came back for that visit. Shane really did rape her."

"Why should I believe the likes of you?" Vince asked, instantly turning into a power tripping maniac. "My son would never do such a thing."

"Vince," Shawn reasoned, "think back to when Shane was younger. Wouldn't he always try to sneak around and undermine your authority? Think about it, Vince. I saw the pain in Trish's eyes. There's no denying it. He raped her."

Vince's rough exterior cracked on the impact of Shawn's words. "How sure can you be?" Vince asked quietly, almost whispering. His expression changed from hard to soft, and Shawn flinched at the change. He rarely saw Vince like that.

"Trust me. I'm positive."

"Ron?"

Ron didn't join in with the sympathetic atmosphere of the room. Rudely, he snapped, "Oh, don't say my name like you're asking me for approval, Vince. She told me herself. Why do you think I'm trying to divorce her?"

"You're getting a divorce?" Vince asked, trying to put this information about Shane in the back of his mind.

"Yeah, we're getting a divorce. Why do you think I'm trying to find her?"

"I thought you were going to hurt her," Shawn butted in.

"She's my wife! Why would I hurt her? Look, just because I no longer want to be married to her doesn't mean that I hate her and wish pain upon her. I love her as a person," Ron explained. "I guess I overreacted at the time, but still. Imagine if your wife said something like that to you. Wouldn't you react the same?"

"I guess," Shawn said, trying not to roll his eyes. He didn't agree because it was true. He agreed to put Ron at ease.

"Well, in that case," Vince said, clearing his throat, "I suppose that I can call her here when Mr. Orton returns in two weeks. I won't tell her why she's going to be here because then she'll try to run. And I have to take care of Shane."

"What are you going to do to him, Vince?" Shawn wondered. In his mind, Shawn was imagining the most foul forms of torture being performed on Shane, and Shawn was the one performing them.

"I don't know just yet. But believe me, Shawn, my son will not walk away from this unscathed."

* * *

"Yeah, I'll give you another call in about two weeks. I should be seeing her then. Alright. Thank you. I'll talk to you soon," Ron said before he hung up with his attorney. He was standing outside of Vince's office as he made the call because he did not get service in the parking garage of the arena.

"Ron? It's good to see you," Shane said as he approached Ron. "You weren't here with Trish last time she visited, were you?"

"Go to hell," Ron grumbled as he glared at Shane.

"Excuse me?" Shane growled back, stepping up to Ron. "I do not take kindly to such disrespect."

"And I don't take kindly to fuckers like you raping my wife."

"How did you—"

"Allow me to walk you to your car, Ron," Shawn said, just exiting Vince's office, seeing Shane and Ron standing together and nearly at each other's throats.

"Shane, what the hell is wrong with you?" Vince asked, poking his head out the door.

"What are you talking about, dad?"

"I need to speak with you Shane. Now."


	20. Contractual Violations?

**A/N: Sorry about two things: the wait and the length. I wanted to get it out before I went to work tonight. I've also been busy with getting ready to move away from home for the first time. Albeit the length, I'm pretty sure most of you will enjoy this chapter.**

Shane begrudgingly stepped into his father's office. He knew what was coming. However, Shane was conniving. He had a plan to stop whatever punishment his father was about to bestow on him.

"Dad, is this really necessary?" Shane asked, rolling his eyes. He took off the jacket of his suit and put in on the back of the chair across from his father's desk.

"Yes, it is necessary. And for the record, we are at work. You are to refer to me as 'Mr. McMahon.' You're no son of mine," Vince seethed, taking a seat in his chair. He leaned back with his elbows placed on the arm rests, clasping his hands so his arms were standing straight up. He surveyed his son.

Not a hint of emotion was on Shane's face.

"You don't think you did anything wrong, do you?" Vince asked.

Shane raised his eyebrows. "Dad, you were never really the best teacher of what is right and wrong."

"Come off it, Shane. You aren't as devious as you think. I know about what you did to Trish Stratus while she was under her WWE contract. Under _my_ WWE contract. You abused and raped one of the company's greatest assets, and not to mention one hell of a woman. No son of mine would have done that. Haven't I taught you anything, Shane?"

"I just told you, dad. You're not exactly the best role model for me as a child," Shane said with a grin plastered on his face.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, dad! Look at your character. You're a lying, cheating bastard on television. That's what I had to look up to when I was growing up. And you wonder why I'm like this. You only have yourself to blame," Shane said, turning the blame of the whole ordeal of his father.

"Don't you dare blame me for this, boy. Those women were under contract to follow the storylines. It was all for television. Were you planning to video tape your acts and was Trish merely just an actress for your video?"

"Dad, that's sick. I would never resort to that."

"Really? So just because there's no evidence, that makes it okay?" Vince asked, raising his eyebrows at his son.

"I…well…"

"Are you ready to hear your punishment?"

"Dad, I'm not a child. You can't tell me what to do anymore. I don't live with you. You cannot put me over your knee and spank me like some five year old. You can't punish me."

"Shane, you do realize that technically, you are a WWE Superstar? Not only are you an important part of the company, but you are _also_ under a WWE contract?"

"So?" Shane wondered. What could that possibly have to do with anything?

Everything.

"You're suspended for sixty days with no pay," Vince announced, looking pleased with himself.

"You can't do that!" Shane yelled, standing up.

"Like hell I can't," Vince said.

"And what are the ramifications of this suspension?"

"You're suspended for being a dumbass. You're right in the fact that I can't punish you as my son. But I _can_ punish you as an employee. You're lucky that I don't turn you in to the authorities."

"Dad, can't we talk about this?"

"You did your talking when you raped her. You can leave now. And if you aren't gone in half an hour, I'll call security to escort you out of here. Don't call me, and don't call me your father."

Shane gave his father a death glare. He stood up, forcefully pushing his chair back. "Fuck you, dad," he said before he left Vince's office, slamming the door.

"He just doesn't understand, does he?" Vince asked himself, burying his head in his hands.


	21. The Heartbreak Girl

The two weeks that Randy was given off from work went by too quickly for the Legend Killer. When Trish was around, he was genuinely happy for the first time in so long. He hated leaving the house for any reason, even to go to the grocery store, but he was happy that he actually had someone to come home to. Besides knowing that he was in love with her, Randy felt that Trish was filling the void in his life. His empty feelings were gone. Trish gave Randy what he was missing, and unfortunately for Randy, Trish had no idea.

"Please, Trish, just come with me tomorrow," Randy sighed as he packed. He wasn't looking forward to his flight in the morning. It meant that he would have to leave Trish and that didn't sit well with him. Where would she stay while he was gone? Of course, he would let her stay there for as long as she would like. But maybe Trish would be lonely in his big house all alone. If he could, he would beg Vince for more time off, but he would never do that. Vince still scared Randy in the way that a stern principal scares a child who is afraid to do anything wrong at school.

"Randy, I don't think I can come with you," Trish replied as she laid on her stomach on Randy's bed, watching him pack his suitcase for the week.

"I promise, I won't let Shane near you," Randy ensured Trish.

"Flattering as that is, Randy, I'm just not ready to go back. I know Vince will bombard me with a contract, and I'm just not ready for that. I mean, I'm going to turn it down no matter what, but I don't think I can handle all the questions yet."

"You don't trust me to keep you safe, do you?" Randy asked with a sad look in his eyes. He wanted Trish to trust him more than anything. Rather, he just wanted Trish to _love_ him more than anything.

"I do, Randy, I really do. You've kept me safe this long without having to, and that's a debt that I'll never be able to repay. I just don't want to cause you any more trouble than I already have."

"Trust me, Trish, you're _never_ any trouble," Randy earnestly told her, looking up from his packing.

Trish smiled sweetly at him. "So…Do you want me to go back home while you're gone?"

"No!" Randy quickly said. He didn't want her to go back to Ron, but knowing that she was in his house was a comfort to Randy. "Trish, you can stay here as long as you'd like. I'll be back in a few days, so…"

"Randy, where have you been all my life?"

"Well, for the first four years, I wasn't even born yet, and then—"

"You know what I meant," Trish laughed.

Randy finished his packing in silence. He could feel Trish's eyes upon him the whole time, and he smiled to himself. He was sure he had a really goofy look on his face, but he didn't care. If Trish was happy, then he was happy. And if they were both happy, then Randy was in heaven.

* * *

"What's wrong, kid?" Shawn asked as he laid his eyes on Randy for the first time in weeks.

Randy opened his mouth to answer, but Shawn held up his hand to stop him.

"Wait, I know," Shawn said with confidence. "It's because you're away from her, isn't it?"

"I really do miss Trish," Randy revealed. "She didn't want to come with me tonight."

"Because of Shane?" Shawn asked with a grin on his face.

"Yeah, but what I'm wondering is…Why are you smiling like that? We hate Shane," Randy said.

"Be that as it may, I have some good news about that," Shawn said, keeping the grin on his face alive.

"Spill," Randy said like a teenage girl who was about to hear the juiciest gossip.

"Well, Vince found out about the _incident_ and is suspended for sixty days," Shawn explained.

"No way," Randy said, a grin rivaling Shawn's forming on his face. "Let me call Trish. I'm sure she'd love to visit now."

Shawn didn't answer, but nodded. He looked at Randy like how a grandfather would look at his grandson after he hit the winning home run in his little league baseball game.

But in his mind, Shawn was thinking something different.

_The poor boy is going to get his heart broken._


	22. Let the Rain Fall

**A/N: Sorry about the wait. Work has been crazy, I may possibly need back surgery, plus I **_**finally**_** went out for once…but that totally got shot to hell. So, here it is.**

**Aaand it's shameless plug time. If you haven't yet, you should check out my newest story called "Scream Your Heart Out." Jeff Hardy is deaf in the story and tries to get back into wrestling. If you read and reviewed it, I'd def. appreciate it.**

"Hello?" Trish answered after her phone had been ringing like crazy. Her voice was strained, as if she had just woken up. Rolling over in the bed to look at the clock, she saw that it was 5:30 in the morning.

"Trish? Are you alright?" Randy asked in a giddy voice. He seemed _way _too excited at that time of morning.

"I'm fine, Randy. I just woke up. How are you?" Trish asked, rubbing the tiredness out of her eyes and sitting up, staying under the covers.

"I'm fabulous. We're in Florida right now and I'll be home later tonight. Oh, Trish, I'm so sorry! I woke you up, didn't I?"

"It's okay," Trish chuckled. "It's six thirty by you, anyways. I suppose I could get up early and clean the house before you get home."

"Trish, you really don't need to clean my house. It's my house and you're my guest. You relax. I'll clean. But I have some good news that I really can't wait to get home to tell you," Randy explained.

"What's up?"

"Guess who is _not_ going to be at work for the next two months?"

"Batista finally got busted?" Trish joked.

"No," Randy sighed. "Shane got suspended."

Trish nearly dropped her cell phone on the floor. "What?! Why?"

"His dad found out about what he did to you, and he suspended him."

"I…um…that's great," Trish stuttered.

"What's wrong?"

"I…You see…Ah, it's nothing," Trish said.

"It's not nothing…"

"It's just that…well…Now Vince knows that Shane and I…you know…"

"You and Shane didn't do anything. _Shane_ did something, and he got punished. Granted, it's nowhere near what he deserved, but it was still something. I'm just glad to see that Vince had some balls and didn't let his son walk all over him like I suspected him to," Randy said.

"That's good, I suppose," Trish said, becoming more quiet and less exuberant than before.

"I'm sorry," Randy apologized.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Randy." Trish shook off her apprehension about the situation and decided to cheer up. "Look, Shane's not around, and he's kind of getting what he deserves. I should be happy about this."

"Yes, you should be," Randy grinned. "Besides, I have even more good news."

"Hm?"

"Vince said he'd love for you to come visit next week."

"Oh, Randy, I don't know…"

"Come on, Trish! You don't have to worry about Shane being there, so what's the problem? Everybody loves you, and I'm sure they'd also love the chance to see you again."

"I just don't want Vince begging me to come back again," Trish complained.

"It must mean you're awesome if he wants you to come back so badly," Randy said, trying to flatter Trish into coming with him. He would be able to spend more time with her and maybe, just maybe, he could let her know how he felt. And secretly trying to get her to sign with the WWE once again wasn't that far back in his mind, either.

"We'll see, Randy. We'll see."


	23. Guess Who's Back?

"Randy, I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Trish whined as she and Randy entered the RAW arena for the evening.

"Trish, I really didn't do much talking," Randy refuted.

"Bull!" Trish retorted, calling Randy's bluff. "You begged me for hours!"

"Just face it, Trish. You can't resist my good looks and boyish charm," Randy grinned.

"Something like that," Trish giggled.

Just then, Trish was knocked backwards and Randy just caught her at the last moment.

"Mickie, didn't I tell you last time to warn me before you do that?" Trish grunted as Randy set her upright and she brushed herself off.

"I'm sorry, Trish, but I'm just so happy to see you!" Mickie squealed, hugging her idol once more.

"It's great to see you, but could we tone the squealing down a notch? I still have a headache from the flight," Trish requested, putting a hand up to her forehead.

"Oh, sure," Mickie obliged. "Just so you know, everybody's been talking about—"

Exactly what everybody had been talking a out, Trish didn't find out; Mickie was cut off by Trish's ringing cell phone.

Trish dug the device out of her pocket. She looked at the screen with a confused look on her face. She showed Randy the caller ID.

"I don't know what to tell you, Trish," Randy sighed. "Answer it if you want."

"Excuse me," Trish said to her two friends. She walked to the other side of the hallway and answered her phone. "Hello, Ron. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

* * *

"I can't give you the push, Maria. You've had enough hype with the whole Playboy thing, and I don't think the time is right for you to have a title shot right now," Vince said to the Playboy cover girl in his office.

"Come on, Mr. McMahon. I've been working really hard with training and everything. Just give me one shot! I promise I won't let you down," Maria pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Maria. The top women's feud must be Mickie James and Beth Phoenix. No offense, honey, but if we have it booked so that not even Mickie James can beat Beth, how on earth are the fans going to believe that _you_ can beat Miss Phoenix?"

"I bet you'd give Trish the push right away," Maria frowned, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest.

"What does Trish Stratus have to do with you getting a title shot?" Vince asked incredulously.

"Nothing, sir. It's just that she's here today with Randy, and I'm sure she's trying to weasel her way back on the roster to steal all the glory," Maria complained.

"Trish is here? And she wants to come back?" Vince asked, his ears perking up at Maria's words.

"Probably!"

"Maria, honey, could you do me a favor? I promise that I can get you into a tag team match tonight if you do this for me?"

Maria sighed, realizing that a tag match was better than nothing. "What, sir?"

"If you see Trish, could you tell her that I'm looking for her?"

"I guess."

* * *

"I really don't mean to cause you any trouble, Trish," Ron said. "How are you feeling?"

If Trish didn't have Randy as a support system in recent weeks, there was no way that she would have been able to answer Ron's phone call. "I'm okay, I guess. How are you?"

"As fine as a soon to be divorced man can be. Look, I'm just here to help finalize plans for the divorce. I think a clean break is best, and that we should do this as soon as possible."

"Ron, I really don't think that break was done very cleanly, if I do say so myself," Trish said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, it was done under circumstances that were out of my control. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Nothing, just forget it," Trish waved off, not wanting to create any more animosity between the two of them. "The next time the WWE is in Canada, I can stop by and we can file for divorce. How does that sound?"

"Why do you have to wait until the WWE is back? Did you sign with them?" Ron wondered.

"No, not at all. I have no plans to do that. It's just that I'm traveling around with Randy and it would—"

"Oh, I get it! You're with him, aren't you?" Ron asked, not sounding the least bit jealous.

"No! We're just friends, Ron," Trish ensured.

"Okay," Ron chuckled. "I believe you. Can you at least let me know when you'll be back so I know when to expect you?"

"The instant I find out, I'll text you."

"Great. I'll see you later, Trish."

"Bye, Ron."

* * *

Maria stalked down the hallway while not in a great mood. As a reward for telling Trish that Vince was looking for her, Maria was booked to be squashed with Mickie James in a tag match against Melina and Beth Phoenix.

"I can't believe this," Maria seethed to herself. "This is worse than—Trish!"

"Oh, hi, Maria!" Trish waved from down the hallway. She was leaning against the wall, waiting for Randy. He was getting ready for his match against John Cena later that evening.

The two girls shared a quick hug. "I'm supposed to tell you that Vince wants to see you," Maria said with fake sweetness etched into her voice.

"Oh, great…" Trish sighed with mock enthusiasm. "Well, I guess I better go and see him, right?"

"That's probably a good idea," Maria smiled.

"Thanks again, Ria. I'll see you later," Trish said, and she made her way to Vince's office, already knowing what was going to happen.


	24. A New Girlfriend

**A/N: KityKat-1, I've been doing some thinking during my hiatus. I don't need the idea for extra material, but I think I may add it in just to make the story longer, and as kind of a request from you. Thanks for the thought, but I don't think that will start just yet. Shh, it's our secret.**

Trish entered Vince's office without knocking. He was expecting her, so what was the point? Besides, she already knew what he was going to say. Vince was just going to be old predictable Vince, after all. Nothing about him had changed, really. Mostly everything about him was predictable. He would always be dressed in a suit. He would be chatting on the phone with either JBL, John Cena, his financial advisor, his stock broker, or his wife. The desktop background of his computer would be a picture of himself, Linda, Stephanie, and Shane from a time long ago.

And Trish knew that he was going to confront her about what Shane had done to her.

"Hello, Vince," Trish said, sitting opposite Vince.

"Oh, Trish," Vince replied rather hesitantly. "I take it that Maria gave you my message?"

"Yeah, she did," Trish smiled, trying to lighten the overbearing situation. "So, uh…what did you want to see me about?"

Vince gave Trish a fatherly smile. "I have something for you," he said.

"You…do?" Trish asked skeptically. She thought _for sure_ that Vince would have said something about Shane.

"That I do," Vince confirmed. He pushed his desk chair back a few feet and leaned down, opening and reaching into the lowermost drawer of his desk. He pulled out a stack of about one hundred pieces of computer paper. "This, my dear, is for you, should you choose to accept it." He slid the stack of papers across the desk to Trish so that the words were facing the correct way for her to read.

_Standard WWE Divas Contract_

"Vince, I don't think I can accept this," Trish sighed, not touching the papers, almost as if she was afraid of them.

"Don't let the title of the contract fool you. We've changed a few things, specifically for you. We think that you will enjoy the terms of this contract. If you do choose to accept, we feel that you'll enjoy your second run in the WWE better than your first," Vince explained.

Trish still didn't pick up the contract.

"Vince, I'm _sure_ that you know of my personal…_restrictions_ that emotionally prevent me from coming back here," Trish said at a volume that was almost a whisper.

Vince played dumb. "Trish, I'm quite sure that I have no idea what you're talking about. But please, just take a look at our offer. I'm sure it's one that you can't refuse."

"No thanks, Vince," Trish said, standing up. She turned and walked to the door, but changed her mind last minute. She walked over to Vince's desk and placed her fists on the desktop, leaning down in front of him. "Vince, why didn't you ask me about Shane?"

Vince's jaw dropped. He looked shocked and taken aback. "Why, Trish…I really didn't think you would ask me that."

"But I did. Now will you tell me?"

"It wasn't any of my business," Vince said, staring blankly into Trish's eyes.

Trish half smiled. "You're an honorable man, Vince."

"Then will you accept my offer?"

Trish straightened herself upright. "You may be an honorable man, sir, but I am not an honorable woman."

* * *

"I know, Shane, but this just isn't fair. I'm working _really_ hard for this, and she just shows up and gets an amazing offer? This isn't right!"

Maria quickly shut her phone after she saw Trish coming down the hallway. She didn't even warn the person she was having a conversation with that she'd be hanging up.

"Hi, Maria! Thanks again for letting me know that Vince wanted to see me," Trish smiled as she waved to the other girl.

"Oh, no problem," Maria sighed, nearly breaking her cell phone in her tight grasp.

Noticing that Trish was empty handed as well as not carrying a purse, Maria sighed. It was a sigh of relief mixed with anger.

Maybe there was hope for Maria. Maybe if she just never answered her phone when _he _called, she'd have more hope.


	25. Predicting the Past

**A/N: I'm writing this as I patiently wait for the time when my boys get killed, once again, by the worst people in the WWE. Ever.**

**I think you'll enjoy this chapter. It's a little choppy with the line breaks, I know, but trust me. It's worth it in the end.**

Nearly two months passed by. Trish wasn't bothered by Vince to come back. Even though she had never been asked since the last time she visited, it was always on her mind. She really did want to return. Since her joint effort with Ron on the yoga studio was pretty much out of the window, what else would she have to do? She couldn't keep relying on Randy forever. She didn't really think of it as _relying_ on Randy, per se, but it was becoming to seem more and more like it.

She felt as if Randy was getting bored with her. Whenever she entered the room, he hung his head low and didn't say anything to her unless she asked him a direct question. It saddened Trish, and she started to think that she was overstaying her welcome, but Randy was just being polite about it and he didn't want to say anything.

Maybe it was time for Trish to find her own place.

"Trish, have you seen the sports section?" Randy asked one morning over breakfast as Trish perused the newspaper.

"Um, let me see," she mumbled, setting her section of the newspaper down.

Randy stood behind her chair. "What are you reading?" Randy asked, reaching down and picking up the newspaper. "The classifieds? Are you looking for another job? You should just sign, Trish, even though you don't want to hear about it anymore."

"I'm not looking for a job, Randy," Trish replied. "I'm looking for my own place."

"What? Why?" Randy asked, nearly dropping the plate of bacon he held in his free hand. "You can stay here as long as you want!"

"But I thought you didn't want me here anymore."

"What? Why would you think that?"

"Well," Trish started, trying to think of a good reason, "you always seem so distant. It's like you don't want me around anymore or like you're bored with me."

How could Randy respond to that? Should he tell her that he was distant because he didn't know how to tell her how he felt about her? Could he even tell her? Even if he tried, it would probably come out just a bunch of mumbo jumbo that not even he would understand. He didn't like to make a fool of himself, especially in front of a woman he cared about, such as Trish.

"Trish, that's just how I am sometimes. I know I seem like a jerk and a cocky son of a bitch all the time, but I'm really not like that. I'm actually a very private person. I think a lot."

Trish smiled at Randy. "I'm still going to look for my own place. I can't stay here forever."

"You can, and you will, if you want to."

"I don't think that's the best thing. You have a life. You're going to meet a wonderful woman, and you're not going to want me around here like an annoying big sister, intruding on your personal life. Oh, here's the sports section," Trish finished, handing Randy his requested newspaper section.

Randy hesitantly took the newspaper from Trish, looking dejectedly at the ground. If he was well versed in the spoken word, clearly able to tell his feelings without confusing himself, he would be able to tell Trish that he already found that woman, and she was already living in his house.

* * *

"Are you _sure_ he won't be there?" Trish asked, unbuckling her seat belt and getting out of Randy's Hummer.

"Yes, Trish," Randy assured her. "Shawn and I did the math. His suspension is over _tomorrow_."

"Okay," Trish sighed, relieved. She really didn't want to run into Shane, no matter how well she was getting over what he did to her.

* * *

"I'll see you sooner than you think."

The words sent an unfamiliar chill through her body. Never before had a man had this effect on her. Just hearing his voice made her anxious. Was it what he had done in his past? Maybe. Or maybe it was because he was just so damn dangerous. Shane McMahon never had the best reputation with the ladies.

"I don't know, Shane," Maria sighed into her cell phone. "Your suspension isn't over yet."

"You just think that, Maria. I'll see you later. Oh, and for after the show tonight, wear something hot."

* * *

Trish couldn't believe what she had just heard. Was the Shane that Maria was just talking to really the same Shane McMahon that raped her? Trish hoped not. Even though Maria had a really sour attitude, she didn't deserve that. No one did. Should she talk to Maria? No, because Trish didn't know all the facts just yet. For all she knew, Shane was a nice boy from Chicago who worked for the same company for all of his life and was as sweet as they came.

Trish hoped the best for Maria. No one deserved to go through what she went through.

* * *

"We must have done the math wrong…" Shawn sighed. He and Randy were huddled in a corner, currently holding their bubbling anger inside of them.

Shane McMahon had just strutted down the hallway with his arm linked to Maria's.

Randy pulled out his cell phone and opened the calendar feature. "Okay, so he was suspended here…" Randy counted sixty days from the day that Shane had been suspended. "Shit, Shawn! His suspension ended yesterday!"

"What happened?" Trish said, poking her head in between Shawn and Randy.

"Um, nothing, Trish," Shawn said quickly, putting his arm around her and making her face the wall. "We were just talking, and…"

"What are you two hiding," a sinister voice called.

Trish's jaw dropped. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. "Sh…Shane?"

"That's right, Trish. It's me, Shane. Why don't you turn around so I can say hello to that pretty face of yours."

Trish started shaking, still in Shawn's grasp. He only held her tighter. "Let me go, Shawn," she demanded angrily.

Shawn didn't want to, but he did.

Trish turned around and charged towards Shane, determined to show him the truth about a woman scorned.

Randy caught her just in time, picking her up.

"LET ME GO!" Trish screamed, kicking and flailing in Randy's arms.

"You have hell to pay," Randy said, his eyes reducing to slits as they met Shane's eyes.

"Put me down!" Trish demanded one more time. This time, Randy obliged.

Trish ran in her heels down to Vince's office. She didn't even bother knocking in the door. In fact, she nearly broke the door down.

"Trish, what are you—" Vince asked, but Trish cut him off.

She rubbed the tears out of her eyes. She leaned over the desk so her face was mere inches from Vince's.

"Give me the damn contract."


	26. Time to Rock and Roll

"The following Divas tag team contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, the team of Jillian Hall and the WWE Women's Champion, Beth Phoenix!"

Beth carried her title high above her head as Jillian ruffled her hair. The two blondes strutted down to the ring. Jillian tried to grab Lilian's microphone, but Beth stopped her.

* * *

"I'm scared," Trish sighed, dusting off her new black ring outfit.

"Don't be," Mickie consoled her. "It's like riding a bike; you never forget."

"I hope so," Trish sighed.

Mickie's music started. "Look, if you don't want to do something, I'll communicate it to Jillian and Beth. I'll do the grunt of the work, I promise. I know you're out of shape and lost a lot of muscle since you left, but you can do it. Don't worry."

Mickie and Trish shared a quick hug. "Thank you."

* * *

"And their opponents. First, from Richmond, Virginia, Mickie James!"

Mickie skipped down the ramp and slid under the bottom rope. Flipping her hair out of her face, she glared at Beth and Jillian. After hopping up on the turnbuckle to show off for the fans, she jumped down and landed wrong on her left leg. No, she didn't fall, nor did it look like she was about to fall. Only she could feel the pain shooting through her ankle. She tried not to limp, so she stood there, waiting for her tag team partner.

"And her tag team partner…"

The bright, female giggle that sounded throughout the arena was unmistakable. The ravishing blonde woman that appeared on the titantron in a black leather outfit with her hair blowing in the wind would be recognized by wrestling fans forever. Before the giggle ended and her music officially started, the roof already nearly blew off the place.

Trish skipped out from behind the curtain and entered the arena full of screaming fans for the first time since the 15th anniversary show. This time, she wasn't here to shut Jillian Hall up.

This time, she was here to wrestle.

The ovation was deafening, and Trish was delirious. She knew they were cheering for her, but the allure of the ring was all she could concentrate on.

She went to all four sides of the ring and pointed to the crowd, her grin growing larger and larger each time she did it. Unfortunately, four wasn't that big of a number, so her fun had to end.

Mickie and Jillian were going to start the match off.

Mickie spoke to Trish in the corner before the match officially started. "Trish, I think I tweaked something in my ankle."

"Can you compete?"

"I'll be fine," Mickie decided. She was a tough girl, and she wasn't one to let some petty pain stop her from putting on a good show, _especially_ with Trish Stratus as her tag team partner.

"WE WANT TRISH! WE WANT TRISH!" the crowd chanted, the noise growing louder every time it was repeated.

Trish begged for a tag. She didn't care if she couldn't wrestle the way she used to be able to. She just wanted to be in there.

"TAG ME IN MICKIE!" she hollered, and the crowd supported that.

Both Beth and Mickie lay in the middle of the ring. Early on, Jillian had tagged Beth in. both women were crawling towards their respective corners, trying to grab the hot tag.

Trish's hand was violently shaking. Was it her that was shaking it or was it the nerves? She didn't know, but either way, Mickie found the way to make contact.

Some younger children in the audience covered their ears when the crowd erupted as Trish truly entered the ring for the first time in all too long.

Trish made quick work of Jillian. She used all of her signature moves: bulldog, Stratusphere, whirlybird head scissors. All that was left…

Trish tucked Jillian's head into the crook of her arm. Mickie dove into the ring and tackled Beth, who was trying to interfere with Trish's finishing move. Trish ran with Jillian, rebounded off the ropes, and landed sitting down, slamming Jillian's face into the mat. She quickly rolled Jillian over and pinned her as the ref counted, holding her hand up high in the air.

Jillian and Beth quickly fled the scene as Mickie and Trish celebrated Trish's first match back in the WWE.

Maria scuttled down to the ring with a microphone. "Trish, what does this mean?" she asked.

"I signed my contract. I'm here to stay."

Without a doubt, one thing was certain.

Trish Stratus was back in the WWE.


	27. Broken Hearts Need Mending

"Do I want to go for the title now? Or should I go for it later?" Trish asked Mickie as the two girls sat in the locker room before RAW. "I have a guaranteed reign whenever I want, according to my contract."

"Do what you want. If you want it now, then go for it," Mickie said. She would support Trish, no matter what decision she made.

"Well, who is slated to get it next?" Trish wondered.

"Um, well…I…am," Mickie trailed off, not wanting Trish to know that she was supposed to have the next WWE Women's Championship reign.

"Oh, Mickie! I won't take it, then. I don't want to ruin your title run. I'll just take it some other time," Trish said, patting Mickie on the shoulder.

"That's fine, Trish. Take it if you want. It's your decision, not mine," Mickie accepted.

"No, I'll just take at a different time," Trish said.

"Oh, and ruin someone else's title run? Wow, Trish, that's _really_ noble of you," Maria seethed as she entered the room, hearing the end of the conversation.

"Maria, what Trish decides is none of your business," Mickie snapped, standing up, ready to defend Trish at the drop of a hat.

"Settle down, Mickie. She isn't worth it," Trish said, pushing down on Mickie's shoulder to make her sit back down on the bench. "Maria, can I talk to you privately?"

"I guess," Maria agreed, rolling her eyes. As far as she was concerned, Trish Stratus had nothing to do with her or her personal life.

Oh, how wrong she was.

* * *

"Shawn, I don't know what to do about Trish," Randy sighed, searching in his duffel bag for his iPod.

"This is what you do: You tell her you like her. That's it. Game over. The end. It's as simple as that," Shawn said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But it's not that easy," Randy whined.

"Sure, it is. Nothing is easier than speaking your mind," Shawn assured the younger Legend Killer.

"What?! RKO-ing John Cena is easier, and more fun, than speaking my mind. Going out and performing a dangerous spot is easier than speaking my mind. Getting booed out of arenas across the world is easier than speaking my mind. Telling the goddess that is Trish Stratus how hopelessly in love with her is the hardest thing I can imagine."

"The worst thing she can do is say no."

"But that's just the thing! If she says no, my world is crushed. I may look tough, but I don't do well with broken hearts, especially mine."

* * *

"Are you seeing Shane?" Trish asked, deciding not to beat around the bush, no matter how pushy Maria may be.

"That, Trish, is none of your business," Maria retorted, crossing her arms across her small chest.

"Well, it may be more of my business than you think it is."

"And why is that?"

"Look, Maria, there's something about Shane that you should know," Trish said.

"You know what, Trish? I really don't care what you have to say. This really is none of your business. You think that just because you came back all high and mighty, you can meddle in everyone's affairs. Well, guess what? I won't let you do that to me. And as far as Shane and I are concerned, you can stay out of it. We're fine just the way we are, and I don't need _you_ ruining it for me," Maria snapped.

Trish began to shake with anger, recalling all of the pain that Shane had put her through. "Fine. If you don't want my help, then you can get hurt on your own. But when he ruins your life, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Don't worry. I won't."

Trish angrily left Maria standing alone. If that's how Maria wanted to play it, then fine, she could do that. It was her own decision.

But no matter how bitchy Maria was being, Trish still didn't want to see the poor, naïve girl get hurt.


	28. It's Over

"You know what I'm going to say, and I know what you're going to say. So, what's your excuse this time?" Shawn asked as he and Randy watched Trish's match against Melina on the monitor in the locker room.

"She's still married. I can't have feelings for a married woman," Randy said blankly, not blinking as he stared at the screen.

"Randy, she's currently _separated_, and soon to be divorced. She's free, and so are _you_ to make a move," Shawn said, stretching out his left leg in preparation for his match later on.

Randy didn't answer. He just continued on staring at the monitor. If it weren't for Chris Jericho storming into the locker room and pulling Randy away from the television, he wouldn't have headed out for his match.

* * *

"Alright, I just need a few more signatures," the divorce attorney said, riffling through a stack of papers. "Trish, if you could just sign here…here…and here for me, that would be great. And Ron? Just sign next to all of her signatures and initial the bottom of each page." Both parties did so, and then smiled politely at each other, knowing that all of this was finished. "But it seems that there is one thing you two haven't agreed upon…"

"What's that?" Trish wondered, glancing over at Ron. Could something really have slipped her mind that easily?

"The yoga studio. It's the only thing we haven't covered yet."

"Oh, um…" Trish pursed her lips. "Ron, you should take it."

"Trish, I can't! It's your dream, not mine."

"No, Ron," Trish said, shaking her head. "I'm lucky enough to be able to relive my dream. You take it. Do what you want with it."

"Are you sure?" the attorney asked.

"Positive," Trish nodded, finalizing her decision. With her second run in the WWE just starting, she wouldn't have the time or energy to run her own business.

* * *

Trish flew back to St. Louis and picked up her rental car. She drove the short distance to Randy's house. She fumbled with her keys at the front door. It was dark, and she couldn't find the right key. Besides, it was dark, and it appeared as if Randy wasn't home. He didn't say anything about leaving. In fact, he had promised her that he'd be there when she returned from Canada.

"Finally!" Trish sighed as she finally got the door open. She walked in the house to find it dark and empty.

"Randy?" she called out into the darkness, turning on the hallway light.

She heard the television on in one of the other rooms. She tiptoed over to the room in case Randy accidentally fell asleep. She didn't want to wake him.

She peered into the room. Randy was facing away from her. He looked to be sleeping, but he was sitting straight up, still as a statue. Trish glanced at the television. It was the worst match of her life that was showing on the screen; Trish Stratus and Bradshaw versus Jackie Gayda and Chris Nowinski.

"Ugh," she said, rolling her eyes at the nonsense. She stepped over to Randy and sat down next to him on the couch.

He was awake, alright. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. His blue eyes just stared blankly at the screen. He looked…dead.

"Randy, are you okay?" Trish asked, reaching out a hand to caress his cheek.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Randy said flatly, not taking his eyes off the screen in front of him.

"I thought you weren't home."

"I was here. I promised."

"But why is it so dark in here? You could at least turn on a light or something."

"No. I'm fine."

"Randy, are you sure there's nothing wrong with you?" Trish asked, putting the back of her hand up to his forehead, checking to see if he had a fever.

"Yes. How was home?"

"You know that Canada is no longer my home. But besides that, it was fine. I'm officially divorced now."

The life seemed to snap back into Randy. A familiar grin spread across his face. "Really?" Randy quickly realized that he was too enthusiastic about this. He painted his words with mock sympathy before opening his mouth again. "Are you okay after all of that?"

Trish sighed with a smile. "Yeah, I think I am. I'm ready to move on with my life."

Randy reached over and picked up the remote, turning the television off. As they both sat in silent darkness, Randy said, "I'm glad to hear that."


	29. Baby Blue and Baby Pink

"I'm fine!" Trish screeched for what felt like the millionth time. She currently had Mickie James, Melina, Jillian Hall, and Dr. Rios fawning over her. She had blood streaming from her nose and she claimed that she couldn't see as well as she usually could. But Trish knew she was fine. She just wanted everyone to get away from her. Her vision would clear and she could clean the blood from her nose.

All in all, Trish had worse.

"Trish! Are you alright?" Randy hollered as he rushed into the room, pushing past the three Divas in order to get to Trish.

"I'm fine, Randy! I can take care of myself!" Trish yelled back in her disgruntled state.

"Are you sure? I can get you an ice pack or a hot towel or—"

"Randy, I'm fine. Please, just let Dr. Rios do his job. But I'm flattered by your concern," Trish said as she closed her eyes. She felt uncomfortable as Dr. Rios began inspecting her nose for any breakage.

"Okay, but get ready to go out after you're done. Dress for a special evening," Randy said in a hurried whisper. He looked awkwardly at the other girls in the room, his face growing red. He prayed that they didn't hear what he said. He had plans for the evening, and he didn't need finicky girls putting false ideas in Trish's head that just may happen to be true.

"OOOOOOH!" Mickie, Melina, and Jillian teased after Randy left the room.

"Shut up, guys. You know it's not like that. Randy and I see each other as siblings, if anything. He's pretty much my best friend. Trust me when I say this, ladies. We don't see each other like that."

* * *

"Orton, you're going out to dinner. You're not taking her to her senior prom. I don't think that the tuxedo is really necessary."

"Shut up, Cena, and go beg for another title match," Randy seethed, taking off the black jacket and tossing it back on the hotel bed.

"Already got one coming," John grinned back. "Why are you stressing so much? You're just going out to dinner."

"John, I told her to dress for a _special_ evening, if you catch my drift," Randy said, hoping that John would get the hint.

"Oh, you like her…don't you?"

"No shit, Cena. Glad you finally figured that one out. Now, help me find a good, normal outfit. What do you think? A suit or just a dress shirt and pants?"

"Did you just offer to wear pants?" John chuckled.

"Screw you. Okay, fine, since you're no help, how about I just drive you back to your hotel so you can quit stinking up my house with your bullshit!" Randy offered, tossing a pair of dress pants and John, who caught them.

"Go with black pants, black shoes, and a light blue dress shirt," John finalized, tossing the pants back to Randy while he was facing the other way, hitting him in the back.

"Have you been watching _Queer Eye_ lately?"

"Randy, I'm just giving you friendly advice. Take it or leave it."

"Thanks, John."

* * *

"He said to dress for a special evening, but I don't know what he means by that. A special evening could be a birthday or…just because. It's neither of our birthdays, so…" Trish mused to Melina in Melina's hotel room. She brought over a few possibilities for her outfit for the night along with her. She was holding up a purple cocktail dress up to her and was getting Melina's opinion on it.

"Nah, not that one. It seems too dressy for some reason. Did you only bring dresses?" Melina asked, wrinkling her nose.

"No, I have a few skirts…" Trish sighed, digging into her bag. She pulled out a black skirt and a light pink blouse.

"Yes. Wear that," Melina smiled, nodding her approval. "Now, what to do with your hair…"

"Mel, Randy and I are just going to dinner. Nothing more than that, okay? This doesn't need to be a fashion show," Trish laughed, setting the outfit down on Melina's bed and toying with her hair.

"Will you _please_ just let me do your hair and makeup for you?" Melina begged, pouting and giving Trish puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," Trish sighed, letting Melina have her way.

* * *

"Uh, I just dropped John off and I'm in the parking lot now," Randy said after Trish answered her phone. "Are you ready?"

"Let me check…"

"You don't know if you're ready or not yet?" Randy asked, severely confused.

"Well, Randy, it's kind of complicated," Trish said. She put her hand over the receiver and loudly whispered, "Are you almost finished?"

Melina quickly put a few more pins in Trish's up-do. "Done," she said, admiring her work.

"Yeah, I'm ready," Trish said to Randy.

"Good. You'll have to explain your methods to me. See you soon."

"Nerrrrrrrvous?" Melina asked in a singsong voice.

"For what?" Trish asked, closing her phone and putting it in her small handbag.

"Tonight."

"Mel, there's nothing to be nervous about. Trust me."

**A/N: Yeah, I know that I totally suck at life. I promised myself that I would update before I leave for Michigan tomorrow. I tried to last night, but my computer has a really bad habit of overheating and losing my updates. This totally isn't as good as I wanted it to be, but...An update is better than no update, I guess.**


	30. Dinner Date

"You look nice," Randy noted as Trish got in the car.

"Thanks," Trish sighed, closing the door and putting on her seat belt. "I'm just afraid that I might be a bit overdressed."

"You look fine, Trish. That outfit looks like something you could wear any day. If anything, I'm the one that's overdressed," Randy said, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink.

"You look lovely, Randy," Trish smiled.

"Thanks," Randy grinned, quickly stealing a glance at Trish out of the corner of his eye.

"You're welcome."

The pair sat in an awkward silence as Randy drove, something that wasn't often held while they were together. Maybe it was the formal outfits they were wearing. Maybe one of them was acting differently. Whatever it was, someone had to say something, but neither of them wanted to open their mouths.

Trish decided to be the brave one.

"So…Where are we going?"

"Would you be mad if I told you that we were going to Denny's?" Randy asked in a serious tone.

"Um…I don't know…" Trish trailed off with a confused tone. If she knew that they were going to Denny's, she certainly wouldn't have dressed up. She probably would have worn faded jeans and an old t-shirt.

"Well, you better let me know quick, because we're about to pull in the parking lot," Randy said, pointing to the Denny's sign not far up the road.

"Randy Orton, if you take me to Denny's, I will knock your head off!" Trish shrieked, smacking the side of the door.

Randy let out a loud laugh. "Trish, I would _never_ take you to Denny's. It was just a joke."

Trish took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down and catch her breath. "Fine then. Where are you taking me?"

"Red Lobster."

"Oh. I'm sorry that I got mad, then."

"It's okay. I have a strange sense of humor."

"Damn right, you do."

* * *

After ordering their food, Trish and Randy enjoyed some nice conversation.

"So, how are you enjoying your second run in the WWE?" Randy asked, sipping his water.

"So far, so good," Trish sighed. "I'll be fine just as long as, well, you know…"

"You can't let him get to you forever, Trish. You have to move on. You're stronger than this. You know it."

"I know, but it's still so hard. I can't just pick myself up like this. I still don't completely trust men," Trish revealed.

Trish's last statement stung Randy a bit. "So…You don't trust me?"

"Oh, Randy, I didn't mean it like that!" Trish consoled, reaching over and taking Randy's hand in her own. "You know I trust you more than anyone I know. You're the only one who is always one hundred percent there for me. You have no idea how much I appreciate you for that. I'll be forever in your debt."

Randy began to caress Trish's soft hand with his thumb. "In that case…Trish, there's something I need to tell you."

"Anything," Trish said, her brown eyes meeting Randy's blue ones.

"Well, you see…" Randy took a deep breath and opened his mouth to continue, but a devastatingly familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.

"Here, Maria, let me get that chair for you."

"Speak of the devil," Randy whispered as he turned around to look over to where the voice was coming from.

He and Trish looked a few tables over and witnessed Shane McMahon pulling a chair out for Maria.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Trish gasped, starting to shake.

"Do you want to leave, Trish? We can go if you want," Randy offered.

"No, um…I don't have to think about him…" Trish mumbled, but her gaze never left that table.

"Let's switch seats, Trish. That way, you won't have to see him," Randy said, getting up and helping Trish into the other seat.

That seemed to calm Trish down a bit. "Thank you," she said, her breathing finally becoming even. "So, there was something you wanted to tell me?"

Randy glanced up and looked at Shane and Maria. They didn't seem to notice the other two wrestlers in the restaurant, sitting ever so closely to them.

"You know what, Trish? It wasn't important."


	31. The Truth Comes Out

**A/N: If you'd like to burn me at the stake for never updating this story, I understand. I posted the reason for my absence in my profile, if you'd like to take a look.**

Randy tried to continue on with his conversation over dinner with Trish as best as he could. Since she wasn't facing Shane, it was easy to keep her distracted, even if only for a short time. Randy could tell that Trish was worried about Shane being mere feet from with, albeit with another girl.

Overall, the dinner was not a pleasant experience for Randy, and it definitely wasn't one for Trish. In Randy's perfect world, he bravely would have told Trish how he felt. Shane wouldn't have appeared out of nowhere with his new toy and ruined it all. Trish would have told Randy that she felt the same way, and the two would be going back to Randy's house together. Well, they'd be doing that anyways, but with a different atmosphere in the air.

"Are you sure you're alright, Trish?" Randy asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Mhm," Trish hummed. She leaned back against the car seat and closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" Randy pleaded, determined to make her take her mind off of Shane.

"No, Randy. You've been nothing but lovely tonight. Thank you," Trish sighed without opening her eyes.

"Alright," Randy conceded, continuing his drive.

Giving up, Randy pursed his lips. So many things he wanted to say, but he determined that they would only make things worse.

* * *

It was late at night, and things were quiet at the Orton residence. Randy would never forgive Shane not only for what he did to Trish, but also for making tonight especially awkward for him. Trish refused to speak to him. She was currently in her room. Randy assumed that she was sleeping, so he busied himself by watching a Rocky marathon until he fell asleep as well.

After finishing the first installment of the Rocky series, Randy stood up to put the next one in. The house was quiet then, until he could hear the shuffling of slippers from behind him.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Randy said as Trish entered the room.

"What are you doing?" Trish asked curiously. "I haven't been able to sleep."

"I'm just watching some movies. Do you want me to run to the store and pick up something to help you sleep better?"

"No…"

"Something's wrong, isn't it?"

"I was just wondering what you wanted to tell me earlier at dinner."

Randy sighed. "Trish, it really wasn't important."

"If it wasn't important, then you wouldn't want to tell me. If it's important to you, then it's important to me."

Randy sat down next to Trish on the couch. He put his head in his hands and sighed once again. "Trish, have you ever liked someone that didn't like you back?"

"Randy, that's the worst question you can ever ask any girl. Of course I have. Ron didn't like me at first, you know."

"Really, how could he not?"

"Randy," Trish laughed, "we're talking about _you_ here, not my failed relationships."

"Oh, right…Well, there's this girl, and—"

"I should have known there was a girl!" Trish squeaked with joy. "Who is she? I'll set you two up! It will be great."

"There's a problem, Trish. You see, she kind of has these problems with this really asshole kind of guy, and—"

"Randal Keith Orton!" Trish yelled as she stood up, stomping her slipper clad feet. "You like Maria, don't you?"

Randy stood up as well to defend himself. "Wait, what? Trish, I—"

"I mean, yeah, she's a cute girl and all, but she's really a bitch. And why she's with Shane is beyond me. You really are a much better choice than Shane is. Don't worry, Randy, if you really like her, then I'll talk to her and make her come to her senses. She'll be with you in no time." Trish kissed Randy on the cheek and skipped upstairs back to her room.

"Trish, wait!" Randy called after her, but it was too late. She was probably already shut in her room right now, fashioning the wedding plans. She didn't even give Randy a chance to explain himself.

And her guess was _far_ from the truth. Work was going to be very awkward in the coming weeks. Randy was sure of it.


	32. Leave it to Maria

**A/N:** **Can't sleep. SmackDown is boring now.**

"Maria, can I speak with you for a moment?" Trish meekly asked, afraid that Maria would blow up on her again.

"Let me guess. You're going to try and tell me how to run my life again, aren't you, Trish? Going to tell me who I can and can not date? Let's have it," Maria shrugged. She knew that whatever Trish had to say wasn't worth her time. She could see Shane if she wanted to. Whatever was going on or had been going on between Shane and Trish was petty and immature high school drama.

…Right?

"No, Maria, I'm not trying to tell you how to run your life," Trish said, trying not to roll her eyes and Maria's incompetence. "But I _do_ know something that might make your life a bit more…interesting."

"Are you saying that my life is boring?" Maria snapped, curling her manicured hand into a fist.

"No, not at all!" Trish said, quickly defending herself. As much as she didn't like Maria right now, she wanted to be nice to her, at least for Randy's sake. If in fact Randy and Maria did start dating, Trish would have to deal with her. She was Randy's best friend, after all.

"Then what are you saying? And I'd appreciate it if you'd get it out quick. _We_ have a tag team match tonight which _you're_ going to win so _you_ can get your precious title shot."

"_I'm_ not getting any title match! I passed it up so Mickie can have her shot."

"Oh, that's _so_ precious of you, Trish. Putting your best friend before yourself…Like I haven't heard any of that bullshit before," Maria said, not holding back her disgust at all.

"Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?"

"Well, not really, but you're just going to tell me anyways, aren't you?"

Trish let out a deep sigh. Maria was going to be more difficult than she thought she would. "Look, Maria, I really mean you no disrespect, but I think that Shane really isn't the best choice for you."

"See? I knew it!" Maria yelled frantically. "I _knew_ you were going to try and run my life like this! You just come back here out of nowhere and expect everyone to act on your every beckon and call. Well you know what, Trish Stratus? I will _not_ let you do this to me," Maria ranted, jabbing a sharp finger in Trish's shoulder.

Trish raised her eyebrows as she looked at Maria. "Stab me like that while your built in Swiss army knife again, and I assure you that you will only have nine fingers."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it's…" Trish gave up. She didn't really want any bad blood between herself and Maria. "Maria, I'm sorry. It's just that someone else around here likes you, and he's much more a gentleman than Shane ever could be."

"And who the hell is that? You don't hang out with anyone except for…" Maria trailed off as she realized who Trish was speaking of. "Wait, Randy? You think that _Randy_ likes me?"

"Yeah," Trish shrugged.

Maria erupted in shrill laughter. "Randy? You've got to be kidding me, Trish!"

"Why? You don't like him?"

"Randy's a cool guy, but _come on_, Trish. It's no wonder you're acting so stupid and shoving your nose in other people's business. You can't even see what's right in front of your face."

"What are you talking about?" Trish asked, having no idea of the meaning behind Maria's words.

"Randy is head over heels for you," Maria stated, her evil grin plastered all over her face.

"You know, Shane is _really_ starting to rub off on you," Trish seethed, this time not holding back her sarcastic eye rolling.

"Look, I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the smartest girl in the world, but even an idiot can see how Randy feels about you. Trish, Randy would _never_ like me."

"I know Randy. If he liked me, he would have told me."

"Okay, Randy _doesn't_ like you. He's fucking in _love_ with you."

"No, he's not. I know he's not."

"Why don't we go and ask him after our match?" Maria suggested. "I'll prove it to you."

"Fine, let's do it," Trish agreed. She knew that Randy saw her as nothing more than a best friend, and a sister at the most. She would prove Maria wrong. After all, if she was seeing Shane McMahon, she had to be wrong about most things in life.


	33. The Cat is out of the Bag

**A/N: This is what I do when I'm trying to avoid my mother. Nice.**

Teaming up with Maria Kanellis was not high up on the priority list of Trish Stratus. Unfortunately for her, she didn't have a choice.

_Why can't she be more like her character?_ Trish wondered to herself, more often than not. Maria's character was so sweet and bubbly. Maria Kanellis was a cold, cruel, calculating bitch.

Trish played as if she was hurt on the outside of the ring as Maria took the loss from the ring. After Melina's split leg pin, she laid still and took the cover. She rolled out of the ring to where Trish was faking pain as Jillian Hall and Melina Perez celebrated in the ring.

Trish started to help Maria up.

"Are you ready?" Maria asked, grinning up at Trish.

"Just get up," Trish grunted, effortlessly helping the skin and bones Diva up off of the ground.

"Trish! Maria!" several fans called, but they ignored them, glaring at the heel Divas in the ring instead.

* * *

"Randy, there you are!" Maria called after she and Trish changed out of their ring attire. She was determined to prove to Trish how Randy felt about her.

It was one of the few nice things she desired.

"Maria? What do you…Trish! What are you doing with her?" Randy asked, confused to no extent.

"Gosh, Randy, you don't have to act like I'm the devil or anything," Maria giggled, rolling her eyes playfully. She wasn't putting up this nice front for no reason.

"I was thinking more along the lines of she-devil…" Randy grumbled under his breath.

"So anyways," Maria continued, not hearing what Randy had said, "I just wanted to clear something up between the two of you, and—"

"Trish! Vince needs to see you ASAP!" a stagehand called.

"Oh, coming!" she said back. She turned to Randy and Maria. "Sorry, guys, but can we continue this conversation later? I've got to run," Trish said, scurrying away from the awkward situation as fast as she could in her heels.

"What were you going to say?" Randy asked after Trish was out of earshot.

Maria arched her eyebrow at Randy. "Look, babe, Blondie's gone so the nice girl act is cut for the moment, alright?"

* * *

"Am I in trouble?" Trish asked, already feeling guilty about something that may or may not have happened.

"Trouble? Oh, no, Trish. You're not in trouble. I just wanted to run something past you," Vince said, exiting out of his email account. "Please, sit."

Trish hesitantly sat down. The last time he wanted to "run something past her," he had begged her to return to his company. What could he want this time?

"How do you feel about another heel run?" Vince asked, surveying the female wrestler sitting in front of him.

"Being a heel is fun, Vince, but I know you better than that. What's the catch?"

"You'd be turning on Mickie."

"I can't do that!" Trish interjected. "Vince, Mickie is my best friend. I don't want to complicate our friendship outside of the ring."

"Do you want the title run or not?"

"Of course I want a title run, but not like this. Not from her, sir."

Vince let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, Trish, but this is a business. With or without your approval, I'm putting _my_ approval on it. I'll see you later."

* * *

"Oh, she's coming back!" Maria gasped, seeing the dejected Trish Stratus coming back towards them. "Does this fake smile look real enough?" she asked, grinning at the taller man.

"Sure, Maria. That smile has only fooled five billion people," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"Aw, Randy, you're so sweet," Maria said through her teeth, practicing her fake persona for Trish's return. "Hi, Trish! How was your meeting with Vince?"

"It was fine," Trish quickly lied. "Can we please get this over with before I change my mind?" Trish was clearly exasperated, and it did not go unnoticed by Randy.

"You okay?" he wondered.

"See! That proves my point entirely!" Maria squealed, happily clapping her hands.

"What point?" Randy asked as he cocked his head to the side.

"That you like Trish!"

Randy's eyes widened and his face turned bright red. "Wha…Huh?"

"You can just tell her no, Randy," Trish said, trying to get Randy to say at least _something_ a bit coherent.

"I…can't," Randy mumbled.

"You can't? Oh, come on, Orton. I know she's not entirely used to hearing the word 'no,' but still, she has to hear it at least once in a while."

"No, Trish, I can't tell her that she's lying."

"What are you talking about?" Trish asked, a worried expression crossing her face.

"What do you think I was trying to tell you when we went out to dinner the other night?" Randy asked.

"You said it wasn't important."

"I couldn't exactly pour my heart out to you while you were having a panic attack while you gazed at Boris and Natasha eating their final meal," Randy said, jabbing a thumb behind him in Maria's direction.

"You were there?" Maria gasped, a little too over dramatic. "I had no idea!"

"Cut the crap, Maria. Maybe if your creepy ass boyfriend didn't go around rap—"

"Randy!" Trish said, cutting him off. She pulled him down closer to her and whispered in his ear. "She doesn't know about that."

"Oh."

"Well now that _Randy's_ secret is out," Maria said, evilly stretching out Randy's name, "how about we let all of the cats out of the bag?"

"Maria, just because _your_ cat has been out of the bag with every guy back here doesn't mean that you can keep opening your trap, you dirty little slut!" Trish screamed, causing a few passerby to stop and stare.

Maria started to lunge at Trish like a vampire thirsty for blood, but Randy stepped in and caught her. "Trish, can we continue this conversation later? I have to take this bitch back to her handler."


	34. Goodbye

**A/N: I went to this week's SmackDown last night. The all-star kickoff was nothing special. If you are not a fan of Matt Hardy or Triple H, then I don't suggest you watch it. Well, if you enjoy seeing Matt Hardy getting knocked off the apron a lot...But, alas, I still did not give away the ending of that boring match. Sorry for the wait. It took me a while to figure out where I wanted to go with this shindig.**

**Please don't kill me after you read this. If you do that, then I can't finish it :D**

"I'll, um…I'll see you later, Randy," Trish sighed as Randy carried away the struggling Maria.

"Let me go!" Maria shrieked as she tried her best to beat Randy's arms off of her.

Trish watched the two leave. She was not in a serene state as her tone of voice implied. However, one would not sound like that having witnessed a very muscular man carry off a petite woman while she was fighting him every step of the way.

Trish made up her mind. She needed Mickie, and she needed her now.

* * *

Randy abruptly stopped at the door of Shane's office, almost dropping the she-devil in his arms.

"Are you going to put me down now?" Maria snapped.

"No," Randy said, just as rudely as she did.

He sharply rapped three times on the door. Randy could hear Shane's voice as he answered the door. "Maria, I've been—Whoa! Randy! What are you doing here?" Shane gasped as he opened the door, seeing Maria in Randy's arms.

"Shane! Ew! Oh my god, what are you wearing?" Randy yelled, almost dropping Maria in shock when he saw that Shane was wearing a bath towel. "Jesus, man, this is your office, not the Playboy Mansion!"

"Ever heard of role playing, Orton? She is a Playboy cover girl, after all. Give me her!" Shane demanded, reaching his arms out for Maria.

Randy quickly shoved Maria in Shane's arms. "You are sick. But hey, maybe if you put something in her mouth, you can teach your little slut to stop opening her trap. But by the looks of your outfit, that was your plan, anyways."

* * *

"Mickie, I need a ride home," Trish said, sounding empty inside.

"Why? What's wrong?" Mickie wondered.

"Please, just…please. Take me home."

"Is something wrong with Randy? Did he do something to you? Do I need to beat him up?" Mickie grumbled, cracking her knuckles in case she had to punch Orton, something that Mickie was not above doing in a time of need.

"I don't want to talk about it. Please, I just need to go back to Randy's house."

Mickie nodded and knew instantly that it was something to do with Randy. How did she know? Right after Mickie mentioned Randy's name, Trish stopped referring to his house as 'home.'

* * *

Randy scoured every inch of the arena for Trish, but he couldn't find her. He really must have fucked up. But no, this was Maria's fault, not his. Maria was the one that opened her dirty mouth. Maria was the one sticking her nose in everyone's business. Maria was the one with her hands in the boss's business and pants. This was all Maria's fault, and Randy shouldn't be bothered with it.

But he _was_ bothered with it. He was the one that didn't come clean with his feelings in the first place. He was the one that led himself to believe that Trish saw him as nothing more than a brother. He was the one that let Maria's games get to him. He was the one that fell for the one girl who didn't buy his arrogant act.

He couldn't find Trish, so he settled for trying to find Mickie. He couldn't even find her. After he gave up, he figured that she must have gone home. He would talk to her then, and he had so much to say.

* * *

Mickie called Trish when she got back to the hotel, but Trish wouldn't pick up her phone. She let it sit on the bed of Randy's guest room and ring into oblivion. She didn't even bother to turn the phone to vibrate or silent, even though the ringtone was starting to annoy her. She would call Mickie to pick her up when she was done.

Silent tears stung her cheeks. How could she let herself fall this deep? She had never really thought of Randy like that before. To her, he was just a friend, a brother at most. He had taken care of her when she needed him the most.

That had to count for something, right?

Randy never left her mind as she packed her things. The plan in her head was for her to pack up everything before Randy got home, have Mickie pick her up, and leave Randy a note explaining everything.

Trish sighed as she realized that the packing would take too long. She had settled in so much. How many things did she accumulate? How comfortable was she? She couldn't even remember how long she stayed with Randy. Did she want to remember? She loved it here, but this newest discovery about Randy made her strangely uncomfortable.

All of her clothes were in her suitcases. The stuff she really didn't need, she left in its place. She sat on the bed and started on the note. She sighed, finding that she couldn't think of the words to properly explain herself.

_Randy, I don't know how to say this, but_

She quickly scribbled that out.

She thought for a few more minutes, but couldn't think of anything prophetic enough. She settled on what it all boiled down to. She grabbed her bags and went down the stairs. She left the note on the table by the front door where Randy left his keys. Trish was sure he'd find it.

She heard tires pulling into the driveway. Trish looked up and saw headlights through the small window on the door. She quickly gathered her things and tiptoed through the house to he back door where she could escape and call Mickie without Randy seeing her.

* * *

Randy was surprised when he saw that the house was very dark. He thought for sure that Trish would be there. Where else could she be? Sure, she could be out with Mickie, but Trish wasn't big on social outings.

"Trish?" Randy called throughout the empty house.

There was no answer.

Randy set his keys on the table and a light upstairs caught his eye. Even from downstairs, he could see through the hallway that the light was coming from Trish's room. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned on the light of the opening foyer so he wouldn't trip up the stairs.

"Look, Trish, about earlier—"

Randy gasped when he saw that Trish was not in the room. More, the room was almost…empty. A lot of her stuff was still there, but a lot of it was gone, too. She left.

This was just an overnight thing, right? Everything would be fine in the morning. But then Randy realized something. If it was just an overnight thing, she wouldn't have packed that much stuff, and her suitcases would still be there. She would have taken just one bag, at the most.

Randy could feel his heart breaking.

Randy ran downstairs, hoping that he could catch. But where was she?

He grabbed his keys off of the table, and that's when he noticed the white piece of paper. Curious, he picked it up and opened it.

The breaking of his heart only intensified when he read what Trish has written in her delicate handwriting.

_Randy, I'm sorry._


	35. The One that got Away

Trish stopped dead in her tracks as she heard the front door open. She was too late. He was here.

She couldn't bear herself to move. She stood frozen in the kitchen, her hands resting on the handles of her suitcases.

Trish let out a sigh of relief as she heard him go upstairs. She picked up her bags and carefully tiptoed towards the screen door.

Randy's voice stopped her.

"Look, Trish, about earlier—"

Trish lost her grip on the suitcase in her left hand, but caught it before it hit the ground. She didn't want Randy to hear her leaving. For all he knew, she already left.

And still being there with Randy knowing she was gone was even more painful than just leaving.

His footsteps sounded like bombs going off as he came back down the stairs. The explosions halted as he paused, and Trish knew that he found the note.

As Trish rushed to get out of the house, her reflexes weren't as quick. She dropped the suitcase that had earlier been giving her left hand some control issues.

A small gasp escaped her lips. She quickly bent down and picked up the suitcase, rushing out of the house.

* * *

The crash wasn't loud, but in the quiet of the Orton home, it sounded like a bolt of lightning in a calm meadow.

The surprised Randy dropped the note that had been crumpling in his shaking hands. Either he was being robbed, or Trish was still here.

For his sake, he hoped it was the latter, although being robbed would be a better alternative to her leaving. At least somebody would be in the big house with him.

"Trish?" Randy called, heading for the kitchen. He gasped when he saw that the screen door was wide open, and a harsh evening breeze whipped through his home.

Randy had lost all hope. He stepped outside to where Trish had left his life forever.

And then he saw the blonde mane disappearing through the gate of his backyard.

* * *

"Trish, this is ridiculous! Turn around right now!" Mickie demanded after Trish told her what happened. "I don't care if you're scared. Randy would never hurt you. He's been nothing but sweet and genuine to you."

"Mickie, I'm scared," Trish whispered. "I'm just so scared…"

"If you didn't love him back, you wouldn't be scared," Mickie said on the other side of the phone.

Trish tiptoed carefully past the side of Randy's house with the phone pressed against her left ear, her right arm attempting to drag both suitcases at once. "Can you just pick me up?"

"Turn around. I bet if you turn around, he'll be right there waiting for you."

"Don't be silly, Mickie. He doesn't even care that I left."

"I don't?" a deep voice said from behind Trish.

Trish gasped and dropped her luggage. She slowly turned around, almost as if she didn't believe that he was really there, that he really did follow her and come after her, that he really did care.

"Mickie…I'm gonna have to call you back…"

"Okay, Trish, but just—"

Click.


	36. Won't Give Up

**A/N: Sorry, work is crazy. You would think that people would be saving their money during a recession rather than gambling. I can't even get a day off on my scheduled days off! I had to work last night and I'm usually off on Saturday nights…Let's just say that Saturday nights at a casino are not the greatest things to take part in. But I did luck out and got sent upstairs to the no-smoking area that no one goes to. Phew.**

"What are you doing here, Randy?" Trish asked as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. She kept her hand in the pocket of her jeans, clutched around her phone as if it was a vice, a way of comfort. She could whip out the phone and call Mickie, or even chuck it at Randy if she really needed to. Nothing was too far-fetched for Trish at the moment.

"I could ask you the same thing," Randy's deep voice said in almost a whisper, just audible in the night air. A light breeze sifted through the air, and if it hit any sooner, Trish wouldn't have heard what he said over the rustling of the leaves of the tree not too far from them.

"I don't think this kind of thing needs explaining or a heartfelt discussion," Trish said, sniffling.

"It's funny that you use the word 'heart'…"

"Come on, Randy, you know this can't happen. I thought we didn't see each other like this, but you lied. You lied to me. Friends don't lie."

Randy crossed his arms and stood stony faced, nearly glaring at the woman he was in love with. "Trish, if you can honestly look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't feel the same about me, then you're lying. And I thought friends didn't lie to each other."

Trish shoved her suitcases to the ground, her hand releasing its comfort grip on her phone and leaving her pocket. Both of her hands balled up into fists. She wanted to sock Randy in the face so bad at that moment that her whole body was shaking just as easily as those leaves in the tree. She took three large strides to Randy, stomping her feet along the way. Her jaw clenched, and she was ready to rage war. Barely moving her mouth, she glared at Randy and spoke very diligently, "Randal Keith Orton, I do not see you that way. I am not in love with you."

She didn't blink once. Her determination never faltered.

Randy's rough glare broke. It was a rare time that his eyes showed any real emotion, and this was one of those times. They glassed over as if he was going to cry, but he held back any other sign of crying. He was Randy Orton, after all. He wouldn't let a woman do this to him. He was strong on his own. Just because he was in love for the first time and she completely broke his heart…

"Alright then," Randy said, confused as to what to say. She had stated her piece, and she already knew his. He couldn't say anymore. Trish had confirmed what he believed the whole time. And now he felt like an idiot for taking a chance for the first time. "I guess I'll see you around." He turned on his heel and walked to his house, afraid that he might fall with each step. Once in the house, Trish saw him turn off all the lights.

Trish picked up her bags and dialed Mickie. "Hey, can you come pick me up?" she sobbed, her real emotions showing.

"Sure. See you soon."

Trish slumped against the side of Randy's house, thankful for the great acting skills she had gained from the years of being on live television.

However, one story above her, a light in the Orton home was on. Randy was in his room, staring down at the girl who had just shattered his world.

If that was how she was going to be, then so be it. He could find another. Hell, he _should_ find another. But he was Randy Orton, and Randy Orton never gives up.


	37. Girl Talk

**A/N: Yes, Queen Islanzadi, I do. I do, indeed. Not as much as a couple months ago, but still more than anyone else I know at my age…**

Mickie sighed in disbelief and she popped another potato chip into her mouth. She flipped the page of her magazine that she was reading as she was laying on her stomach on the bed of her hotel room. She heard the water in the bathroom turn off and looked up to see Trish walk out of the bathroom, her wet hair wrapped up in a towel and her body covered with a hotel bath robe. She had forgotten hers at Randy's house.

"Are you ready to talk now?" Mickie asked, closing her magazine and tossing it to the side. She closed the bag of chips and lightly threw it at Trish, who caught it, reopened it, and stuffed a large handful of the sour cream and onion flavored chips into her mouth.

"Nope," Trish mumbled with her stuffed mouth.

Mickie rolled her eyes, remembering the drive to the hotel from Randy's house. Mickie repeatedly tried getting Trish to tell her what had happened, and Trish continually refused. "You can't keep all of this bottled up inside you, girl. It's going to make you crazy."

Trish opened her mouth wide and dumped the rest of the contents of the bag in her mouth. After she swallowed, she let out a very disgusting sounding burp.

"Or crazier than you already are…" Mickie added after Trish's blatant display of pure class. "Look, I don't want you gaining unnecessary pounds, and Vince is always looking for any reason to get rid of expendable talent…"

"I am not expendable," Trish said, this time with a properly empty mouth. "But I might make myself that way. It's going to be too awkward working with Randy. Gosh, Tyra was _so_ wrong. You shouldn't get with your coworkers."

"Our job really isn't what you would call normal. Our wardrobe calls for us to show up when no one will see us dressed like proper ladies, while we then appear on worldwide television in as little clothing as legally possible," Mickie explained. "Besides, you're like the most beautiful girl on earth."

"If I was really that beautiful," Trish sighed, "things would be easy for me."

"What isn't easy for you?" Mickie screeched. "You get everything you want. Sometimes, I don't think you understand how lucky you are."

"Can I explain something to you before you freak out on me more?" Trish asked, giving Mickie some sad form of puppy dog eyes.

"Sure. The floor is yours."

"Okay…" Trish took a deep breath before continuing. She wasn't quite sure how to put her feelings into words. But, Mickie was pretty much her best friend now that Randy was out of the equation, so this should come easy…Right? "So…I really do think I'm in love with him _now_. But I really only think about him when he's not around me. And when we're together, everything just seems so easy. It's like our friendship was meant to be, but only friendship. And when he's gone, I miss him more than anything. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah. You know that whole 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' thing?"

"Of course."

"You're the classic example of it. You don't realize what you have until it's gone, or rather, until _he's_ gone."

"I guess that makes sense…"

"I think that you and Randy need to sit down and have a nice talk about everything. Who knows, by next week, you guys could be married!" Mickie suggested.

"I don't think so…"

"Oh, come on. You guys already act like you're married."

"We do not!"

"Why is it that everyone sees something except the people who are smack dab in the middle of it?" Mickie wondered out loud.

_Knock._

"Who the hell…?" Mickie mumbled. Who would be knocking on her hotel room door at three in the morning? "Randy!" Mickie guessed, practically leaping off the bed to answer the door. Trish's Prince Charming had arrived to whisk his princess into the sunset, or rather, darkness of the night.

"He wouldn't," Trish said, her insides squirming.

"Oh…hi…" Mickie said, at a loss for words when she opened the door.

No, their visitor was not Randy Orton, unless he had lost a foot in height, about one hundred and fifty pounds, and gained long red hair.

"Who is it?" Trish asked, stepping up next to Mickie. "_Maria?_ What on earth are you doing here? Especially at this hour?"

Maria sobbed, quickly trying to wipe some tears from her eyes.

"Are you crying? What happened, Maria?" Mickie asked.

"It's…It's…Shane. He…He…"


	38. Breakthrough

**A/N: I am so sorry. I only recently got my computers back up and running, and my line of work is just suicide waiting to happen. I just got done doing four twelve hour days a week and then one eight hour day, so most of my weekends have been dedicated to sleeping.**

"Oh, Maria, come in!" Mickie said, putting a consoling arm around Maria and leading her into the hotel room. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Mickie, I don't think that right now is the best time--" Trish started, but was cut off by Maria's wailing.

"Trish, I'm in pain here!" Maria whined, totally cutting off Trish's line of thought. Trish shot Maria this look as if to say, _Bitch, oh no you just did not cut me off._

"Come on, Maria, you can tell us," Mickie said, rubbing circles on Maria's back to try and calm her down.

"Shane...He told me...He told me that I wasn't pretty enough!" Maria cried, throwing her arms around Mickie in an unnecessary overly dramatic way.

"I, uh...Maria, you know you're not--" Mickie said, but this time, it was she who was cut off, this time by Trish.

"Are you fucking kidding me, woman?" Trish hollered, slamming her fists on her bed. She stood up, a woman enraged, and stormed the short distance up to Maria. "You're worried because that...that...that PIG said you weren't pretty? What, did you refuse to have sex with him for once? Was that his way of punishing you? Trust me, Maria, you have no idea about anything."

Maria's tears quickly dried. Either she was faking the whole ordeal, or Trish had really said something that hurt her. "Really, Trish? Then how about you educate me. Since, you know, you think you're the queen of the wrestling world."

Trish had to ball her hand into a fist to prevent herself from slapping Maria across the face. If she wanted to believe what Shane told her, then Trish would gladly help her by slapping the pretty right off of her face. "Maria, you haven't got a clue, do you? Do you know what he did to me?"

"Trish..." Mickie said in a patronizing tone, trying to prevent what she knew Trish was about to say.

"No, Mickie. It's time," Trish decided, nodding her head once at Mickie. "It's time to get this off of my chest."

* * *

The time Randy spent alone in his home seemed to go on forever, but in a bad way. When he was with Trish, sometimes the time would creep by, but in a good way. Other times, it flew by in the worst way possible.

But this was just hell to Randy Orton.

How long had he been laying in the dark? A day? A week? Is it possible that he had missed an entire weeks worth of work without telling anyone where he was?

Randy rolled over and glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. It had only been two hours since Trish told him that she wasn't in love with him. Where had he gone wrong? He was always right about women. He was never wrong. But was he wrong this time?

Of course not. Randy knew he was right. He was _always_ right.

And even though it was the middle of the night, he was going to do something that he had never done before.

Randy was going to go after her. He wasn't going to wait until she came to her senses and ran back to him. He had to take charge.

After getting out of bed and getting ready, he went to his truck.

And by hell or high water, and even if it killed him...

Trish would be his tonight.


	39. How Does It Feel?

**A/N: OH OH OH! I'm so excited! I just thought of a new twist for this story. It could either be very, very good or very, very bad. I was watching Spider-man 2 and it kind of sort of inspired it but not really, if that makes sense. If you guys end up not liking it, I'd be willing to scratch it...but it does add a lot to the story, content wise and length wise, which I think you all will like. It's a completely different idea than what I was planning on, as well.**

**I am so, so sorry.**

Randy was a man possessed as he sped down the familiar streets to the hotel he had never stayed in while the WWE was in his hometown of St. Louis. He had no idea how fast he was going. All he knew was that he had to reach his destination.

He had to apologize to Trish. He had to explain everything to Trish. He had to tell Trish that he loved her.

He couldn't even concentrate on the road. All that ran through his head were thoughts of Trish. How she smelled, how she laughed, how she looked when she was angry...

He had to have that in his life forever.

* * *

"You are crazy, Trish," Maria said. She stood up from Mickie's bed and crossed the room to the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned around and glared at Trish. "Shane would _never_ want anything to do with you."

Maria opened the door to leave, pulling it towards her. She might as well have not even tried. Trish stomped up to the Diva from Chicago and kicked the door close, the doorknob snapping out of Maria's hand.

"Ouch!" she whined, holding her hand up to her chest.

"Sit the hell down and listen to me, prissy," Trish demanded, jabbing a sharp finger in Maria's shoulder.

Maria let out a shrill laugh. "Yeah, right. Look, this has been fun and all, but you guys suck. I thought you could help out a fellow female and make me feel better. You guys are more boring than I thought." Maria turned once again to leave, but was stopped...once again.

Trish did something she never thought that she would really do outside of the ring. She grabbed Maria by the arm and dragged her over to Mickie's bed, flipping her over so she was laying on her back. And to ensure that Maria wouldn't move, Trish straddled across the red head's stomach and pinned her shoulders to the mattress.

Bending down close to Maria's face, Trish snarled, "You listen to me, and you listen good. You used to be such a nice girl, but look what you've done with yourself. You've thrown yourself to the dogs. And dating Shane? I didn't know you liked rapists, Maria."

"What are you talking about?" Maria asked, rolling her eyes at Trish's information. "Shane isn't a rapist."

"Yeah, Maria, he is. He raped me. He _raped_ me. And he probably would have raped you, too, if you weren't so willing to give it up!"

Maria was a small girl, but she was strong when angered. Somehow, she mustered up enough power to push Trish off of her, sending the blonde cascading to the floor.

Trish picked herself up, enraged. "Mickie, hold me back!" Trish demanded as she tried to leap towards Maria who was once again attempting to make her escape. Mickie instinctively complied, holding the struggling Trish by the arms.

Maria smiled as she turned the doorknob, grinning at Trish being confined by Mickie. "Oh, and one more thing before I go," she said, walking up to Trish. She took advantage of the situation by slapping her across the face while being restrained.

"LET ME GO!" Trish demanded, kicking the air between herself and Maria, trying to make contact. Maria backed up just enough to give Trish hope of meeting her goal, but not letting her be successful.

"And Mickie? Maybe if you didn't gain all that weight, they wouldn't have taken away your push."

"YOU GOT IT, TRISH!" Mickie yelled, throwing Trish to the ground in order to take her shot at Maria, but Maria darted out of the room and slammed the door just in time.

_Ring._

Trish grunted and picked up the hotel room phone. "Hello?" she answered, a little more rudely than she normally would have.

"Hello, this is Donald from the front desk. We've been getting some complaints about noise..."

Trish glanced at the clock. It was 4:30 in the morning.

Oops.

* * *

_On this day, I see clearly_...

It wasn't exactly the opening of RAW that the St. Louis crowd had expected. Edge making his return this early? And to Monday night RAW?

He was dressed in dark blue jeans, black converse, a black t-shirt, and a black blazer jacket. In one hand, he held a microphone. And in the other hand, he held a black rose.

The shower of boos spread across the arena. They weren't looking forward to Edge coming back.

"I know that the occasion of my return should be a great celebration, but I return with some somber news," he said, twirling the black rose in his fingers. "It is a dark day in the WWE. In fact, the only shining light is the fact that I have indeed returned to make your Monday nights all the more special. You see, this black rose is not, contrary to you the obvious thoughts of you mundane people who live under a McDonald's arch, for the Undertaker. No, I am done with that. He will never bother me again. This rose is for Randy Orton. I have been elected to deliver this news to you. It is my regret to inform you of what has happened to my former tag team partner. I now reveal with great sadness...the death of Randy Orton."

**A/N: DON'T KILL ME PLEASE! If you do, I can't finish this!**

**And I HAD to use Edge. Just the thought of him returning in any way, shape or form makes me happy. Every day without him is like a knife stabbing at my soul.**


	40. Just Visiting

**A/N: Oh, you silly geese. Jumping to conclusions so early? But won't you all come back to me, please? Edge did, thank god. I am so happy about that. (By the way, I had this all written before Survivor Series. I just had to add that last part about Edge after it happened.)**

"I hope Maria stays far, far away from us," Mickie said as she and Trish got ready in the Divas locker room. That night, Mickie would be winning the WWE Women's Championship from Beth Phoenix with Trish in her corner, setting up Trish's heel turn in the near future.

"Yeah..." Trish sighed, her mind clearly somewhere else.

"Thinking about Randy, aren't you?" Mickie asked, zipping up her jeans.

"I don't know how you wrestle in those," Trish noted, pointing at Mickie's jeans. "Your other wardrobe is much more appropriate."

"Trish, stop changing the subject," Mickie said. "Just go and find Randy. Talk to him. It's all you two can do at this point. And I'm sure he'd love to speak with you. Tell him everything. And maybe he'll tell you his side of the story."

"He already did..." Trish trailed off, remembering her last encounter with Randy outside of his house.

"Then you have to do your part."

"Mickie," Trish started, sitting down on the bench, "I didn't want this. I didn't want to fall in love with him. I knew that staying with him was a mistake."

"You don't pick who you fall in love with. You just don't. I just can't see why--"

Mickie stopped mid-thought and turned her head towards the monitor in the locker room, and Trish did the same. Both ladies dropped their jaws at what they had just heard...At the thought that had just interrupted their conversation.

"The death of Randy Orton."

Mickie and Trish stared at the screen until the thought settled in their minds.

"Are you ready, Mickie?"

"Uh-huh."

"I have myself a Canadian to find."

* * *

Adam sighed as he threw the black rose in the garbage bin. He expected his return to be a bit grander than just delivering such horrible news.

He walked down the hallway, heading towards the locker room. He wanted nothing more than to take a shower. He felt horrible. He felt dirty.

_Slam._

All of a sudden, Adam was bull rushed and slammed against the wall.

"I've missed you, too, Trish," Adam smiled, looking down at the fellow blonde Canadian.

"Where is he?" she growled, a fierce look in her eyes.

"Where is who?" Adam asked. His absence from the WWE had left him out of the loop from all of the backstage drama.

"RANDY! He isn't really dead, is he?"

"Oh. Him..." Adam sighed, looking away from Trish.

"What...what happened?" Trish asked, letting go of his shirt and backing away from him, trying not to stumble.

"D-don't worry about it, hun. Just go out there and support Mickie," Adam said. Trish didn't need to know what happened. It would only frustrate her more.

"I _need_ to know, Adam!" she screamed, stomping her heel clad foot. "Don't you know about us?"

"You're _dating_ Randy?" Adam asked, shocked.

"No, we're not dating. But, please, Adam, just tell me what happened."

"I can't believe you didn't hear...Fine. If you want to know so badly, I'll take you to see for yourself after your match."

* * *

Adam drove his rental Jeep Cherokee down the St. Louis roads with Trish in the passengers seat. He tried explaining to her what had happened, but he couldn't quite grasp exactly how to say it.

"So...it is just a storyline, right?" Trish asked, almost pleading for it to be true.

Adam glanced over at the Diva beside him and nodded. "Yes, it's just a storyline. He's going to be off of television for a while..."

Nothing else was said.

Adam pulled into the hospital parking lot and turned off the vehicle. "He's in there," he said to Trish.

"_There_? What happened to him, Adam?!" Trish begged, her eyes filling with tears.

"See for yourself."

The two Canadians walked side by side through the automatic doors of the hospital front desk area. Adam placed a hand on the small of Trish's back to guide her through the place. They headed towards the receptionist and said, "Hello, we'd like to visit Mr. Orton."

The smile that greeted the two wrestlers instantly vanished. "M-Mister...Or...Orton?" she asked. They couldn't possibly want to see him, could they?

"Yes," Edge stated, and Trish started to tremble.

"I don't think...Let me call his doctor," the receptionist, Jenny, said. She picked up the phone and dialed a number by memory.

"Doctor?" Trish repeated, looking up at Adam.

Adam could only return her statement with a grim nod.

"I have two friends of Mr. Orton here with me...No? It's not possible?...But they'd really like to...So it's okay, then?...Yes, sir, I'll explain. Thank you. Sorry to bother you outside of your office hours." Jenny hung up the phone and turned back to Adam and Trish. "So, Dr. Cunnings has given you two the green light to visit Randy...But I'm not quite sure that you can really call it visiting..."

"He's alive, right?" Trish asked, putting her hands on top of the desk in front of her.

Jenny placed a caring hand on top of Trish's. "Yes, dear, he is very much alive."


	41. Get Over It

**A/N: I know, I'm a horrible bitch that deserves to die. The truth is, three of my left fingers are completely cramped up from work, and I can't bend my last two fingers very much. Typing is not the most pleasurable of activities in this state, so I apologize deeply.**

"What happened to him?" Trish sobbed looking frantically between Adam and Jenny, looking for any type of answer.

"It's right down the hall," Jenny told the Canadian pair. "Room 117." She pointed to the hallway to Trish and Adam's left. "Just, um...Well, sir, _you_ know the drill."

"Yeah," Adam sighed, putting an arm around Trish's shoulders. "You'll be fine, Trish. I promise. Just remember that he'll be fine in the end. Everything will be fine."

"Adam, you're scaring me!" Trish squealed as Adam started to guide her to room 117.

"Trish, I know you well. Trust me, how you feel now is _nothing_ compared to how you're going to feel in a few minutes," Adam said quietly.

Trish began to pick up the pace. Everything that Adam was saying scared her more and more with each step. Each clank of her heel against the tile floor was another heartbeat that Randy could possibly be losing, a moment that Trish and Randy would lose.

"Here we are," Adam sighed, placing a hand on the doorknob. "Are you ready?"

"Open the door, Adam."

"Just please...Don't scream. I've already seen him and I know what happened, so just please promise me you won't overreact."

"I promise, damnit! Now just let me see him!"

Adam grimly smiled and opened the door, Trish almost knocking him over as she ran into the room.

She stopped as soon as she saw the sight in front of her. Randy was clearly not awake, nor did he look like he would awaken any time soon. He was connected to wires and tubes and IV machines. The medical devices were making strange sounds that Trish had never heard before. The one tracking his heartbeat was beeping the slowest of them all. To Trish, it was beeping slower and slower. He was dying.

The worst part of all was a large bandage on his right cheek that covered half of his face. There was a decent amount of blood that could be seen through the bandage.

Trish nervously gulped, not sure which would come first: her passing out or her throwing up.

Adam stepped behind her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "See, Trish? It's not that bad." He _knew_ that it was bad. It was very bad. He was just trying to make her feel better; trying to calm the storm before it even happened.

Trish violently turned around and glared at Adam. "Not that bad? _Not that bad_? Adam, are you fucking kidding? His heart sounds like it's going to give out at any second. He looks like he's never going to wake up. And his face...his beautiful face..." She turned back around and stepped up to Randy's bed, caressing the unharmed side of his face. "Oh, Randy...what happened to you?"

"I can tell you...If you really want to know," Adam said.

Trish never once took her eyes off of Randy. He looked as if he was sleeping, but not peacefully. His face still held a pained expression, even in his state. A tear fell from her cheek and landed on his hand. She gently brushed it away and whispered, "Tell me everything."

"Are you sure you don't want to sit down?"

"No, I'll be fine."

Adam began to speak as he sat down. "Well, you see...He was in a pretty bad car accident. Some jerkoff wasn't using his lights. The doctors said that he hit his head so badly that he's...he's in a coma right now..."

"What?" Trish said, her rage filled eyes reaching Adam's. "For how long?"

"They don't know. They don't know when he's going to wake up. And they don't know if he's going to remember anything. He could have amnesia. And the bandage on his cheek..."

"Yeah?"

"A huge chunk of glass from his windshield pierced his face all the way through."

Trish gasped and covered her mouth, her eyes instantly traveling to the bandage on Randy's face. "But...But what was he doing out that late? Why was he out driving? It better be a good reason. Mickie picked me up from his house at a very late hour, so this better damn well be good, Adam."

"Er..." Adam stuttered, running a hand through his hair. "They said he was a few blocks away from the hotel you guys were staying at."

And then it came. Trish blacked out and fell to the floor.

* * *

Adam had carried Trish out to the car. He drove her back to the hotel and called Mickie. The two of them helped Trish wake up, and the girls headed up to their hotel room.

"Randy? Why Randy?" Trish cried. She hadn't stopped crying since she woke up from her fainting spell.

Mickie sat on the bed opposite Trish, stroking the shiny surface of her newly won Women's Championship belt. "You know what you have to do, right?"

"What?"

"Look, you're going to hate what I say, but..."

"Just say it, Mickie!"

"You're going to have to get over him, Trish. They don't know if and when he'll wake up. And even if he does, he might not even remember anything."

"But I...I can't do that."

"Trish, Randy would want you to be happy. And right now, it looks like he won't be around much to make you happy."

Trish knew that Mickie was right, even though she wanted Mickie to be horribly, horribly wrong. But did Trish really _want_ to move on from Randy?

Not in the slightest, but she had to.


	42. New Hope

**A/N: Sunny, you might have to take over for me sooner than we think...**

"Trish, I am sorry, but I am not giving you time off for this," Vince, the normally generous man when it came to these types of affairs, said, typing away on his computer without even looking at Trish.

"But, sir, Randy _needs_ me there at his side!" Trish pleaded, leaning slightly forward.

"He's in a coma," Vince stated, pointing out the obvious. "He doesn't need you by his side. Hell, he won't even _know_ if you're at his side or not. If we hear anything about the doctors thinking he'll wake up any time soon, I'll let you know and you can see if he's going to wake up. But right now, we need you here. You're going to start our top women's feud with Mickie, and I can't afford to lose you to an unnecessary mourning leave."

"Mourning? Vince, he's not dead," Trish groaned.

"Well you're sure making it seem like it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of paperwork to get through."

* * *

"See, Trish? You aren't _supposed_ to get time off for this. It's a sign. Can't you tell? It means that you are supposed to _get over_ Randy and look for someone else. Obviously, it wasn't meant to be for you two crazy kids. So, find a new guy and see what happens. This isn't your fault, so you can't keep beating yourself up over all of this," Mickie explained to Trish as she stretched behind the gorilla position in preparation for her match that Trish would be accompanying her in.

Trish sat on some boxes against the wall, swinging her feet. "I don't know...You know how I felt about him. Won't that seem really shady of me?"

Mickie stopped stretching her calves and stood up straight. "Randy is dead to the world right now. And when he does wake up, he might not even remember anything. We should just think of that as an added bonus."

* * *

Mickie stood victorious over Katie Lea as Trish raised her hand. As planned, Trish was glaring at Mickie's WWE Women's Championship that was straddled over her shoulder.

And even though this wasn't planned and it seemed very strange...

All Trish could see was Randy's face in the reflection of the belt.

* * *

"Yeah, but who can I see myself with _besides _Randy? I don't really see anyone..." Trish said to Mickie as they walked away, but she stopped when she _did_ see someone else.

"Trish, in our line of work, it is usual for the guys to be attractive," Mickie explained. She looked at Trish, seeing that she was practically staring at someone down the hallway. "OH!" Mickie squealed.

"Hey, Trish. I'm just here for a visit to see how everyone is doing, so...How are you?"

Trish grinned at the man in front of her. "I'm great, John. How are you?"

"I could be better," the injured wrestler said, patting his hurt shoulder. "But I heard about...You know...How is he?"

"He's getting a well deserved nap," Trish said, not feeling as much pain as she expected to when someone mentioned Randy's name. She had forgotten how good looking the man in front of her had been. She was getting lost in his eyes for a moment, but got snapped out of it when she heard Mickie giggle like a little school girl.

"Are you having an issue, Mickie?" Trish asked with a forced smile on her face.

"John, now long are you in town for?" Mickie asked quickly. Trish's jaw dropped. Mickie wouldn't...would she?

"As long as I want," John answered.

"Maybe you would like to hang out with Trish after the show tonight?" Mickie suggested.

"Trish?" John asked, seeking Trish's approval.

"Sure," Trish nodded, agreeing. "But if you'd excuse me for a moment...I need to go talk to Vince. I have to apologize for earlier."

* * *

Trish's head was reeling. She didn't even bother to notice that the voice that said "come in" after she knocked was not the deep, gravelly voice of Vincent Kennedy McMahon.

She opened the door, entering the room while looking at the ground and said, "Look, sir, I'm sorry about the way I was acting earlier. It was out of line and..." She looked up.

Big mistake.

"YOU!" she gasped, pointing at the man sitting in his father's chair.

Shane was leaning back in the expensive leather office chair with his feet on the desk. "You know, Trish, I don't think that my professional title is 'you.' I think that instead of apologizing to my father about your snippy little attitude earlier, you should apologize to me for your bitchy little attitude right now."

"I owe you no apology," Trish growled, flames burning inside of her. "What you did to me was uncalled for. And I'll never forgive you for this."

"Yeah, because I _really_ care what you think," Shane said, rolling his eyes. He brought his feet to the ground and sat up straight, riffling through some papers on his father's desk. "Oh, by the way, I haven't seen your little boy toy in a while. Where has he been?"

Trish's eyes widened. "You son of a bitch..."

Shane's eyes mimicked Trish's. "Is _that _how you feel about my mother? Well, the next time I see her, I'll be sure to tell her that one."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Trish stomped her foot at the end of the question.

"What? What do you want me to say to you? Do you want me to tell you that it was _me_ who hit Randy with a car? Will that make you feel better? Lumping all of your troubles into one big roll like that? You can't associate all of the evils in your life with me, you know."

"I never _had_ any evils in my life until you came along."

"Oh, Trish, you make it sound like I was in love with you or something; like we had a real, deep connection. Well, we _did_ have some type of deep connection, if you catch my drift."

"You are a sick bastard!" Trish screamed shrilly.

"And I pride myself on it, baby."


	43. Voices

**A/N: (Clearing up a few questions I received after the last chapter) Shane did not hit Randy. He was just being an ass, as usual. Randy is not going to magically wake up because he is not Sleeping Beauty and Trish is not Prince Charming. And as for John Cena, I am so sorry. But who else could I use? (Disclaimer: I do not support John Cena in any way, shape, or form)**

**Note: Due to recent events, both personal and professional, I may decide that this is my time to leave this wretched but beautiful playground we call FF.N. Needless to say, I feel utterly compelled to finish this story no matter what, but I'm almost fearing that my intended course of plot is taking a dangerous turn to where I don't want it to go...**

**Hopefully, I haven't lost any of you.**

You can't expect a girl to sit around and wait forever. The man she thought she was supposed to be with was as good as dead at the moment, and no amount of tears spent over him would become a potion to remedy Randy Orton from his cursed sleep.

Waiting for a man who was MIA to the world was not high on the priority list of Trish Stratus.

Maybe Mickie was right. Maybe she _should_ get out there and see what else the world would have to offer. Life shouldn't be spent wasting away waiting for a man who may or may not return to her. It obviously wasn't meant to be.

* * *

"Mickie? Can I ask you something?" Trish said after her match against Mickie. In the past month, she had made her heel turn against her best friend. It was almost a reverse of Mickie's debut storyline, except Trish wasn't obsessed with Mickie. She was obsessed with revenge.

"Sure. Want a water bottle?" Mickie offered, picking up two water bottles out of the cooler and holding one out to Trish.

"Oh, thanks," Trish said, taking the bottle from Mickie and taking a sip of the ice cold liquid. She screwed the cap back on the bottle and took a deep breath. "Remember how you were telling me to go out with John?"

"Mhm," Mickie hummed, mid-sip of her own water bottle.

"Well...Thank you, but...Why? Why did you tell me that? You were so intent on Randy and I being together, and then he gets in that accident, and you just throw that whole idea out the window! Why?" Trish asked frantically, holding the cool water bottle up against her sweating forehead.

"Do you really want to know, Trish?" Mickie frowned, starting to lead the way down to the locker room so they could get ready to leave.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know," Trish answered, rolling her eyes. She opened the door of the locker room and held it open for Mickie.

"Thanks. But, um...I don't want you to get upset with me for what I might say. Like...Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Sit down," Mickie said, patting the bench that was on her left. Trish sat and crossed her legs as Mickie paced in front of her. "Okay, this is how it is. You loved Randy and he loved you. That's all fine and dandy, but it didn't work out. I mean this next part in the nicest way, I assure you. I _could_ have worked out, probably, but he got in that accident, rendering him in a coma. And where did that leave you? Heartbroken and crying every single day and night nonstop. And then John comes along. It's no secret that he's good looking, and he seems to like you...And you seem to like him. So why not? Maybe he can make you feel better. Hell, he _has_ made you feel better. Maybe you weren't really meant for Randy at all. I wasn't trying to sabotage what you had with Randy, or anything. You're my best friend, and I just want to see you happy."

"Oh," Trish said, taken aback by surprise. This wasn't exactly an explanation that she had been expecting, but she wasn't really sure what she was expecting at all.

* * *

Trish was surprised at how quickly she fell in love with John Cena. His date ideas were smart and charming. He never made her feel uncomfortable or out of place. In only three months, Trish felt as if there was a new hope for her.

* * *

Shane McMahon sat in his office, twiddling his thumbs. His feet were up on his desk, and Maria was rubbing them. His father was not in attendance at the night's show, leaving his estranged son in charge, under the eye of his watchful sister, of course. Vince was not stupid. He knew what his son was capable of, and he did not want the A-show blowing up in smoke because he felt the need to cause someone public embarrassment.

"You know, Maria, things have been a bit too quiet here, lately," he contemplated out loud.

"You're right, baby. Not much is happening, and it's kind of boring around here," Maria agreed.

"We need to stir up some trouble. I know that Steph is here and everything, but she won't be here _all_ the time. We could even do something when my dear father is around."

"Whatever you say," Maria nodded.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Who the hell could be interrupting my massage time?" Shane grumbled, kicking his feet away from Maria and sitting up straight. "Hello?" he answered, rather rudely.

"Shane? I heard that you were in charge tonight. This is Randy Orton. I've uh...I've woken up, I guess?"

"Really, Randy?" Shane grinned, leaning back in his chair.

After a short lived conversation with the newly revived Legend Killer, Shane hung up the phone and snapped his fingers as he placed his feet back on the desktop, prompting Maria to resume her role of massage therapist.

"Is everything okay?" Maria asked.

"Everything is just perfect. Randy Orton is returning next week."


	44. Hello, Old Friend

**A/N: I know, I'm sorry. I'm aware that I did skip through a lot of time in the last chapter, but I didn't know what else to do. Besides, I probably would have thrown up if I actually wrote out CenaxTrish. No, just…no.**

"So, you remember everything?" Vince asked, leaning back in his chair and surveying the newly awoken Legend Killer sitting in front of him.

"Not…everything," Randy replied, scrunching up his face. "I remember you. I remember how to wrestle, and I remember all of my storylines. I remember important names…but when I walked in here today, I didn't recognize half the people that greeted me."

"But you remember John, right?" Vince questioned. His plan was to throw Randy into a storyline with John Cena immediately.

"John? John Cena? I didn't see him today…but he's my best friend, right?"

Vince smiled. "Yes, John Cena is your best friend."

Randy looked hesitant. "You're not…lying or anything to me, are you? Just to put me into some crazy storyline?"

"Crazy storyline, maybe. But lying to you? No, I am not."

Randy pursed his lips and frowned. "I suppose I should go and get ready or something…"

"You might want to do that."

* * *

Randy and John clicked instantly, and it was as if Randy had never gotten hurt in the first place.

"Man, that's a sick scar you got right there," John noted, pointing at Randy's cheek.

"Yeah…I'm just glad I never felt it. I'm sure being impaled in the face doesn't feel so hot," Randy chuckled.

"So, uh, about your girl problems you were having…" John started, but was cut off by an alluring woman.

"Hello, boys," Maria said, almost in a singsong voice. She moved with such fluidity that she almost looked as if she was dancing. "Oh, Randy! It's so nice to see you!"

"Maria, right?" Randy guessed, his eyebrows raised.

"Aw, Randy! You're so sweet! I'm so glad you remember me!" Maria squealed, hugging Randy.

"If I remember correctly, you're an evil wench," Randy flatly stated, not returning Maria's hug. John choked on his water.

Maria's sickly sweet fakeness turned back into her usual bitchy self instantly. "Well, Randy, if I were you, I wouldn't be hanging around with the guy who is trying to steal your woman," she seethed, storming off. Her Jimmy Choos made a sharp clacking sound against the tile flooring.

"Woman? Does this have something to do with the girl problems you were talking about?" Randy asked, quizzically looking at John.

John averted Randy's gaze. "Erm…No, not really. You didn't have a girlfriend before your accident. I guess it would be over, now. She's moved on."

"Oh," Randy shrugged, blowing off the whole thing. If he had no knowledge of this previous affair, why should he bother? Apparently, she was over it, whoever she was.

And so was he.

* * *

Maria grunted angrily as she returned to the Divas locker room. Once she entered the room, she took off her expensive shoes and whipped them at the wall, snapping off one of the heels. She wasn't even angry about breaking her shoes. Shane would just buy her some new ones.

But she was angry about being called an evil wench. She thought that she would be able to persuade Randy to believe anything she wanted. She was upset that she couldn't carry on with her plan because of that.

All she wanted was to destroy Trish Stratus.

But she didn't realize that it would happen whether she helped or not.

* * *

"So, what are you and John doing today?" Mickie asked as she and Trish took a warm-up jog down a hallway.

"I'm not sure. I guess it depends on how we feel after the—Is that Randy?" Trish stopped dead in her tracks as she saw a familiar looking man with her boyfriend.

"I think it is," Mickie replied in shock.

"Oh…my…god…" Trish gasped. She bolted away from Mickie and ran to the two men.

"Trish! Wait!" Mickie yelled, trying to catch up with her best friend.

"Hey, babe!" John said when he saw Trish running up to him, extending his arms out to her.

"Randy!" Trish squealed, hugging the taller man.

Randy didn't return the hug.

Trish's face saddened as she looked up at the man she was previously in love with. "Randy…"

"Er…do I know you?"


	45. Remember

"You don't…remember…me?" Trish whined, tears welling up in her eyes. How could Randy not remember her? And after all they've been through! She thought that he wouldn't have amnesia since he returned to work, but maybe she was wrong.

"You don't look familiar at all. Sorry. Am I supposed to know you?" Randy asked, his eyes reducing to slits. He was getting very uncomfortable around the unfamiliar woman who claimed to know him very well.

John and Mickie quickly intervened. Mickie knew about Trish's true feelings for Randy, while John just knew that they were previously close to the point of almost dating. Still, he had no idea that Trish was actually in love with Randy for real. Besides, he felt very awkward about Trish being so passionate about Randy's return.

"You guys were friends for a while," John quickly said, which wasn't exactly a lie. "You'll remember."

"Uh, Trish? Let's go shopping like we planned…" Mickie offered, trying to push her away from Randy.

"No, I'll take her. After all, she's my girlfriend," John said, taking Trish by the hand and leading her away from Randy.

"Oh, she's your girlfriend?" Randy asked, excited. "Then maybe I should get to know her! I suppose I'll be seeing a lot of her, then."

John frowned and brought Trish back to John. "Randy, this is Trish. Trish, you already…know Randy…"

Randy politely extended his hand to Trish. "Nice to officially meet you, again I'd suppose."

"You, too," Trish said in almost a whisper, too sad to show any more emotion.

* * *

"But Shaney! He called me an evil wench!" Maria whined, laying across the desk in Shane's office.

"Aw, 'Ria, what do you want me to do about it?" Shane cooed, rubbing her stomach.

"Beat him up," she pouted.

"I can't do that right under my daddy's nose. You know that, sweetie pie."

"Fine, then if you won't help me, I'll go do something myself!" Maria huffed, leaving the office.

"About time," Shane grunted after she closed the door.

* * *

"Are you…happy to see Randy back?" John asked as he and Trish headed for the parking lot. Never before had he been skeptical about their relationship, but after seeing how Trish reacted when she saw the Legend Killer, he couldn't help it.

"It's good to see him," Trish sighed, totally avoiding the complete truth.

Was she happy to see him back and healthy? Beyond recognition.

Was she heartbroken that he didn't remember her? More than she could ever tell.

"Well, what's wrong then? You seem…_distant_," John noticed. "I'm worried about—Oh. Hi, Maria."

Maria was leaning against the wall outside of Shane's office, which was conveniently located near the exit that led to the parking lot.

"Hello, John. Oh, hi, Trish," Maria said, a disgusted look forming on her face when she saw Trish. "You know, Trish, it _is_ nice to see Randy back, isn't it?"

"Maria, now is not the time," Trish warned.

"But when _would_ be the time? Now is better than ever, don't you think?" Maria asked, waltzing up to the couple.

"I don't want to talk about it. He didn't remember me," Trish said very quietly.

"Didn't remember you? After all you've been through?"

"Trish, what is she talking about?" John asked, getting more and more confused by the moment.

"You know what's funny, Trish?" Maria asked evilly, stepping right in front of Trish. She leaned close into the space between John and Trish. Whispering in her ear, she said, "You know what the funny thing is? He remembered me."

Anger boiled in Trish's blood. She let go of John's hand and shoved Maria to the ground.

It was a long time coming.


	46. Lucky 7's

**A/N: I am so, so sorry. This is one of the few stories that anyone actually reviews anymore, and I thank you guys for that. The only reason I can even sit to type this is because my first day of training has killed me. I can barely stand.**

She felt as if her soul had been knocked unconscious with a brick.

Trish sat alone in the bathroom of John's Bostonian home. When they should have been spending quality time together, Trish was curled up on the floor alone, the collar of her white terry cloth robe becoming stained with her mascara ridden tears.

_It would have been better if he had just went and died_, Trish thought. But no, she didn't mean it. If Randy really did die, then she wouldn't be far after him. She was sure of it. But no, he was alive and well…almost. He was almost okay. He was completely oblivious to the one thing he had focused on before his accident.

Trish.

She should be happy. She deserved to be happy.

And now she wished that she didn't come back to the WWE. She wouldn't be in this mess.

But she tried not to blame herself. This wasn't her fault. She just fell in love. It's an everyday thing, right? She had to place the blame somewhere else, just to stop herself from going insane.

Shane.

This was all Shane's fault. If Shane didn't rape her, she wouldn't have wanted to retire as soon. Randy and Shawn wouldn't have been begging her to come back. Seeing Shane wouldn't have made her _want_ to sign her new contract. She wouldn't have fallen for Randy. Randy and her wouldn't have gotten in that fight. Randy wouldn't have gone after her. Randy wouldn't have gotten in that accident. She wouldn't have fallen for John.

She wouldn't be sitting alone in a bathroom, crying. Trish felt like the new girl in high school with no friends, and it didn't suit her well.

Half of her wished that Maria was locked in the bathroom with her. Trish could use a good punching bag right about now.

* * *

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" Trish gasped.

Maria sat on some storage boxes just outside the gorilla position, swinging her feet with Mickie at her side.

Mickie?

"I am so sorry," Mickie mouthed to Trish, frowning.

Maria giggled as she hopped off the boxes and onto the floor, landing gracefully on her feet. "You know how you're like…winning the title from Mickie or something?"

"Yeah, I do," Trish forced out through her clenched jaw.

"I'm valeting for Mickie tonight!" Maria giggled, patting Trish on the shoulder.

Trish snapped and grabbed Maria's wrist, squeezing it harder than she thought she was. "If you lay a single _hand_ on me, Maria, I swear…"

"You mean kind of like you're doing to me right now?"

Trish looked at the death grip she had on Maria's wrist and quickly let go. "Sorry."

"No, you're not sorry. You're not sorry at all. But I'm going to _make_ you sorry."

* * *

Trish harshly kicked Mickie in the stomach, laughing as she did so. Mickie struggled to get up. Once she did, Trish collided her foot with Mickie's head with a vicious Chick Kick.

But it wasn't enough. Even though they were friends, they were enemies at the moment. It wasn't Trish and Mickie in the ring. It was Trish Stratus and Mickie James.

Besides, Maria was ringside, and she was just as good fuel to add to the fire that was burning inside Trish. She was legitimately pissed off. Mickie would understand this later. It was nothing personal, really, and Trish would much rather have Maria in the ring with her.

Trish bent down and picked Mickie up, putting her in a facelock.

"What are you doing?!" Mickie muttered. This wasn't planned. This wasn't in the works at all.

"Just go with it," Trish whispered back.

Trish ran up to the ropes where Maria was standing just outside. She jumped up so her feet would rebound off the top rope for Stratusfaction, and…

Trish fell.

Maria had jumped up on the apron and grabbed Trish's foot, sending her falling with Mickie crashing down on top of her leg. Somehow, the force of Maria throwing Trish's leg off course flipped her over, and the hook that Trish had on Mickie's neck took her with her.

Trish sat in the middle of the ring, screaming bloody murder. Her leg hurt that _bad_. Mickie rolled out of the ring in Maria's direction. The ref fell to his knees at Trish's side. Once he realized that she was really hurt, he threw up the X and paramedics came down, carrying her to the back.

"What did you do?" Mickie grunted as Maria pretended to help her.

"Oh, nothing," Maria sighed innocently.

"I swear, if it weren't for the fact that we were on live TV with an audience, or if my job didn't depend on it, your face would be stomped into the ground."


End file.
